


Inevitable

by MYuzuki



Series: Inevitable [1]
Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And I really do mean everyone, Aphenphosmphobia, Assassins, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Magic, Drama & Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, ElijahxZoe, Endgame Elijah/Zoe, Eventual Elijah/OC, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, EzBekah, EzraxRebekah, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Family troubles for everyone, Friendship, Full Shift Werewolves, Gen, Hidden Depths, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Lots and lots of trust issues, Mind Control, Multi, New Orleans, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Original Character, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Philophobia, Protective Klaus, Revenants, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Subterfuge, Torture, Trust Issues, Twins, Unconventional Families, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves, Wicca, Witch-werewolf hybrids, Witchcraft, Witches, Zolijah, lack of agency, so many kidnappings how have i not tagged that before now, werewolf cuddle piles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 256,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYuzuki/pseuds/MYuzuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoe and her twin brother Ezra have been on the run for years. As witch-werewolf hybrids cursed to immortality, they've made some dangerous enemies that they are desperate to avoid. They flee to New Orleans, hoping to disappear among the supernatural community there. But there are beings of terrifying power in the Big Easy, too, and the twins soon learn that they can't run forever.</p><p>Video trailer available <a href="http://yuzukimist.tumblr.com/post/144301249543/a-video-trailer-that-i-made-for-my-originals">here</a><a></a>.</p><p>There is also a "screenshots" accompaniment featuring quotepics available <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/348185">here</a><a></a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“ _ **Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”**_

* * *

 The truck made a clunking wheezing sound as we pulled to a stop outside the motel, the engine sputtering like it was on its deathbed. I eyed the dashboard warily, expecting some sort of warning light to flash. When nothing happened, I glanced over at my brother, who was focused on the tourist pamphlet we'd picked up at the last gas station.

He noticed my gaze on him after a moment and gave me in innocent look. “What?”

“This thing's about to have some sort of mechanical seizure, that's what.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “You worry too much, Zoe. It got us here from Baltimore, didn't it?”

“Yeah...” I admitted. “But that's a long way to go for any vehicle, much less one this...vintage. Besides, it was hardly a straight shot from there to here.” Various detours and backtracks had turned a thousand-mile trip into something closer to fifteen hundred. And as much as I loved my twin, that much quality time together was more than enough. “Thank God we're finally here,” I muttered.

“New Orleans,” Ezra said with a little too much enthusiasm as he flipped through the guide book. “Also called Crescent City, the Big Easy...famous for beignets, jambalaya, gumbo, and the ever popular red beans and rice.”

“We're not here for the food,” I said with a sigh, pulling the keys out of the ignition then frowning as the truck continued to chug for several moments before shutting off with a painful rattle. “I'd really love to find another car, Ez.”

“Just as soon as you find a job to pay for it,” my brother replied evenly. “You know our savings account is almost empty; we can't afford any more hefty expenses.”

“A car that isn't a ticking time bomb is an expense I'm willing to pay for,” I remarked.

“So get a job,” he repeated, turning another page in his book. “Aha! They say the French Quarter is a pretty chill place to hang out. We should check it out.”

“Absolutely not.” I shook my head. “We came here to blend in, remember? Not draw attention.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So, you've heard the same rumors I have. And waltzing into the one part of town that's full to bursting with witches is probably not such a good idea. You remember how Seattle went,” I added darkly. “I'd like to avoid a repeat performance.”

He sighed, mood sobering. “Look, Zoe, I know things haven't been easy these last couple years...”

“That's such an understatement I don't even know what to say.”

“...but this time's different. I can feel it,” he added earnestly as he saw my skeptical look. “I know you're leery of trusting gut instinct and all that shit, but something about this place feels _right._ Don't you feel it?”

I tilted my head for a moment, assessing my feelings. And...yeah, nope. “The only thing I'm feeling right now is sleep-deprivation,” I told my brother curtly. “So let's just grab our bags and turn in for the night, okay? We'll figure out the rest in the morning.”

He stared at me for a moment, frowning slightly, then relented with a shrug. “Fine,” he said, shouldering his door open and stepping out. “I'll go grab the room keys from the desk clerk.”

“Thanks,” I said absently as I craned around in my seat to snag my duffel bag.

I pulled it into my lap and rummaged around until I found what I was looking for. It was a small photo album, just a couple inches thick and a hand-span wide and tall. It was looking a little worse for wear, but tattered or not it was absolutely precious to me. The contents were all I had to remember my family by, the images inside the only ones remaining of my mother, of my father, of me and Ezra as kids....of all four of us together, as a family.

I had one single picture of my mother's brother, but hadn't kept it for any sentimental purpose. It was simply so that me and my brother would never forget the face of the bastard who'd betrayed us so brutally and torn our family apart. He was still out there somewhere, and we needed to be ready for his next move.

From what I could tell he'd ceased doing his own dirty work years ago, having not come after us in person in quite some time. Which didn't mean we were safe, far from it. The assassins he'd hired continued to pursue us with increasing vigor, and would continue to do so until he either rescinded the bounty or pursuing myself and Ezra became too dangerous for them. And while me and my brother had managed to knock off more than a fair number of those who'd come after us, I doubted it would be enough to dissuade a heartless band of magical mercenaries. Our luck was just not that good.

And while my brother and I couldn't be killed, life on the run to avoid endless torture and suffering was definitely not ideal.

For the thousandth time, I wished upon my uncle a terrible death followed by a roasty stint in Hell. This whole blood-soaked mess was all his fault. From beginning to end, all the death, all the pain, all the fear, could be laid at his doorstep.

Just because his precious baby sister Rina, our mother, had married a werewolf, our father Lucas. Sure, it was taboo, especially for a nice woman from a powerful witch bloodline, but really now. Cursing your sister's children to immortality so you could torture them and watch as their mother suffered for their pain? That was just sick, in so many ways.

Dear Uncle Reginald's vendetta had since claimed both Lucas and Rina's lives, leaving me and Ezra as the last of our family. And being ageless and nigh-immortal, it seemed like we'd be around for some time yet. Provided our thrice-cursed uncle didn't find us first. I was pretty sure he'd find some sort of loophole that could enable him to slaughter us if he really put his mind to it, and as much as I hated my life I refused to meet my end at _his_ hands.

I was startled from my reminiscing as Ezra thumped on the driver-side window. “You gonna sit in there all night or what?” he demanded, dangling the keys to the motel room.

“Hell, no.” I stuffed the album back into my bag and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air. “Which room are we in?”

“Twelve,” he replied, gesturing vaguely in what I assumed was the direction of our room. We'd begun staying in a single room together just a few weeks ago, when we'd finally realized that _constantly moving + no consistent work = serious cash flow problems._ Staying in one room instead of two was an easy thing we could do to save a little cash, and for the most part we could co-habitate easily. Being half werewolf tended to make tempers run a little high but we'd managed well-enough in the twenty-something years we'd been on the run together. I wasn't sure if we'd both stay in one piece if another few decades went by like this, but I tried not to dwell on such morbid things if I could help it. I was pushing forty, looked about twenty, had a psychotic uncle who wanted to torture and kill me, and had a loving twin brother in the exact same situation. Our lives sucked big-time, but it could be worse; I could be alone. But so long as I had my brother, everything would be fine.

We entered our motel room and after double and triple-checking to make sure all windows and doors were secure (there was no telling when one of Reginald's little murderers-for-hire would try to make a move), we collapsed into our beds and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**"Our destiny is frequently met in the very paths we take to avoid it."**

* * *

 

I woke up the next morning to find the sun shining, the birds singing, and my brother gone.

Which was annoying but not, I had to admit, unexpected. Ezra had always had a tendency to go off on his own without warning once we arrived in a new place, though usually not _quite_ so soon. We'd literally just arrived the night before after all. Would it really have killed him to wait for me, though? Seriously.

Although truth be told, I couldn't really blame him. Our stint in Baltimore had been much rougher on him in the end than me, and though he was good at hiding it I could tell he was still hurting over what had happened there. He hadn't gotten over it by any stretch of the imagination, and his erratic behavior was becoming a little more noticeable with each passing day, with mood swings and suddenly “needing some space”.

Not that I would have handled his situation any better had it happened to me. Having your heart ripped out by someone you'd thought had loved you was definitely a good qualification for needing space. Since I loved my brother and hated to see him hurting, I was trying hard to not overreact when he did things like this.

Which didn't necessarily mean I was happy at being ditched at a cheap ass no-tell motel in a strange city. It just meant that the odds of smacking my twin hard upside the head went down slightly. Very, very slightly. Maybe.

I showered and changed and used my battered Toshiba laptop to take advantage of the motel's spotty wi-fi service while I waited for my brother's return; since he'd taken the truck, I had no way to leave the motel even if I'd wanted to. In the meantime, I could put my time into doing something more productive than shouting obscenities at a twin who wasn't here to hear them.

I scrolled through page after page of apartment listings, trying to find something that would work for us. Our plan was to take refuge here, and hopefully stay here for a good long while; the moving from place to place every few months thing was getting pretty old for both of us. So, we needed an apartment. Something private, but not too isolated. Small, but big enough so we each had plenty of space. Two bedrooms, because after such a long stretch of close quarters living we could both do with some privacy. We may be brother and sister, but there really was such a thing as too close in some situations. I'd seen more of my brother in the years we'd been traveling together than any sister should have to see. Ever. I'd have scratched my own eyes out at times if I wasn't so sure they wouldn't have just healed back to normal again afterward.

So, yeah, an apartment. Finding a good one shouldn't be too hard, right? Wrong.  
I became increasingly frustrated as I went through the listings, as good options decreased while the corresponding prices just kept on going higher. The Big Easy, as a hot tourist spot all years, had some of the most outrageous rental prices I'd ever seen. Which was saying something, since me and my brother had been moving all over North America for the better part of two decades, giving me a fairly sizable well of experience to draw from.

I was truly one step away from screaming in total frustration and smashing my computer into smithereens when my wayward brother finally returned. _About damn time,_ I thought irritably.I opened my mouth to snap at him for bailing on me without leaving so much as a note, then stopped as I saw the serious expression on his face.

“What's wrong?” I asked, frowning.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I went to check out the French Quarter,” he admitted after a moment of tense silence.

I was not thrilled to hear that, but held back from scolding him. “And?”

“A witch was killed today. Executed.”

I shot up out of my seat in alarm. “What?”

He nodded glumly. “Yeah. They're holding a vigil for her in a few hours.”

“Who killed her?” I asked, anxious. People died and were killed every day, all over the world, I knew that. It happened everywhere, no matter what city you were in. But this...a dead witch the day after they pull into town? I knew logically it had nothing to do with me or my brother, but it certainly wasn't a good omen.

“I don't know,” Ezra said, shaking his head. “People don't like talking to strangers, and I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself so I didn't stick around too long to ask questions. We can go back and snoop around a little more though, if you want. I don't think we'll get much, but it might be worth a shot.”

I bit my lip, unsure. On one hand, it would be stupid to go out and get involved in something that didn't concern us. On the other hand...if someone was killing witches, we needed to know more. Our mother had been a witch after all, and witch's blood ran in our veins. If New Orleans was no longer safe for witches, we'd need to know it sooner rather than later. “Yeah, let's go.” I closed my laptop and grabbed my jacket.

As Ezra led the way back out to the truck, I wondered if coming to New Orleans had been a bad idea after all. We'd heard rumors over the years, nothing super specific, just that the Big Easy was home to all manner of supernatural entities. Vampires, werewolves, witches. Ezra and I had figured that such a lively bustling city with so much variety would be the perfect place to hide from our enemies.

But if the situation here had somehow changed (and it was looking like it had), this city might not be the safe haven I'd envisioned it to be. Which would be unspeakably disappointing. I was so sick of running. Of hiding, and living in fear. I'd seriously looked forward to settling down here, at least for a little while.

A confrontation with my uncle was inevitable in the end, I knew that with great certainty. But I was totally willing to put it off for as long as possible. And I'd hoped to find a modicum of peace and normalcy before that hopefully far-distant day.

But from the way things were going, it seemed like I would not find that peace in New Orleans after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you: the chapter in which Zoe meets Elijah!

**“Nothing in this world happens by chance.”**

* * *

 

Ezra and I split up once we got to the French Quarter, to cover more ground with our investigating. Not that people were eager to tell us much; they were mourning, and we were strangers. We did manage to gather some information though, and regrouped on a street corner not far from where the vigil for the murdered witch was set to begin in a handful of minutes.

“The witch's name was Jane-Anne Deveraux,” my brother told me. “She was killed for doing magic.”

I stared at him, not sure I'd heard that right. “A witch was executed...for doing magic?” I repeated in disbelief. “That's like killing a fish for swimming, or a bird for flying.” Basically, stupid. Witches did magic. Duh. That's just how it was, like how vampires drank blood and werewolves changed form every full moon.

Not that my brother and I were forced to chance once-monthly like regular wolves. Our witch blood seemed to have altered our werewolf condition somewhat; we could shift at will any time, regardless of the moon phases, and had much more control over our wolf forms than our full-blooded werewolf brethren.

“Apparently,” Ezra went on, “witches are now forbidden from practicing their arts.”

“Forbidden?” I scowled. “By who?”

“The vampire king of New Orleans,” Ezra said dryly. “Some guy named Marcel. Word is he also ran the werewolves out of town. They're living like savages out in the bayou now.”

Okay, this was so not good. “We're not staying here,” I said, turning on my heel and marching through the crowd that had gathered to mourn the Deveraux woman.

“But we just got here!” my brother protested, hurrying after me. “Give it a week, at least!”

“No,” I snapped. “We're leaving.” Staying in a city where both witches and wolves were persecuted was nothing short of insane, and I was not in a suicidal mood today, immortality or no.

I was so focused on getting the hell out of the area that I wasn't watching where I was going. I turned my head to tell my Ezra to keep up, and the next thing I knew I was crashing into someone.

A very solid someone, who didn't really seem to budge as I stumbled sideways, dazed.

The stranger's hand shot out, grabbing my elbow and steadying me as I flailed. “You seem to be in something of a rush,” he remarked, smooth voice laced with a hint of amusement.

I glanced at his face and was embarrassed as my heart rate picked up. But not _too_ embarrassed, because he _was_ ridiculously handsome; sexy enough to make any red-blooded woman swoon.

He had dark hair, dark eyes, and the face and body of a male model. Add in the fact he was dressed in a designer suit? Hello, handsome.

But the wolf in me was getting twitchy with having him so close; something about this guy was setting off little alarm bells in my head, and while I couldn't pinpoint the source of my unease, I decided to trust my instincts. I took a careful step back from the handsome stranger.

“My apologies,” he said, seeming to pick up on my unease. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, it's fine, I'm the one who crashed into you. Sorry about that, by the way, Mr....?”

“Mikaelson,” he supplied with a faint smile. “Elijah Mikaelson.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar, like something I'd heard somewhere and shouldn't have forgotten, but no matter how hard I racked my brain I couldn't seem to remember what it was. I decided not to worry about it; I'd likely never see this guy again. “Well, sorry for slamming into you, Elijah Mikaelson. If you'll excuse me, I need to be going.” I took another step back, looking around for my brother, who seemed to have vanished into thin air.

“Did you know her?” Elijah asked suddenly.

I stared at him in confusion. “Know who?”

“The Deveraux girl. Jane-Anne.”

I had the nagging feeling that there was more to his question than his easy tone would suggest. Since I had no idea what was going on in this city, I wasn't sure how to answer. I didn't want to accidentally embroil myself in a supernatural turn war. I had enough shit to deal with already.

In the end, I opted for honesty. More or less. “No, I never met her,” I replied, and that was the truth. “My brother and I just got into town last night.” Also truth. “We heard about her death on the news, and just felt so bad that we wanted to come pay our respects.” Half-truth? Well, no, that last one was pretty much a white lie. We hadn't exactly heard about it on the news, and paying respects to the murdered witch hadn't really been our reason for coming down to the Quarter, though Ezra and I did feel badly for the loss of life.

“Well, you'll have difficulty paying your respects,” Elijah remarked. “Since the body was stolen a few hours ago.”

I turned around to stare at him, too shocked by this news to mask my expression. “Stolen? By who?”

“Marcellus,” he replied, tone severe.

Marcellus? Who... “Marcel,” I realized. “Vampire king.” I hadn't realized that I'd said that last bit out loud until I saw Elijah staring at me, expression inscrutable.

“What is it?” I asked warily, taking another step back as my hand drifted towards the dagger hidden in my jacket. If he was something inhuman, as I was beginning to suspect, it really wouldn't do much to harm him. But it would still _hurt_ him, and causing him pain might buy me enough time to get away. Maybe.

“Who are you?”he asked, looking at me intently.  
  
Too intently, in fact. I realized that he was trying to compel me. Something that my brother and I had discovered to be ineffective on us. We couldn't be compelled, and I'd never worked out how to pretend it was working on me. Which also meant I couldn't fake it now, unfortunately. The plus side was that now I knew what he was: a vampire. A powerful one, if the vibes he was giving off were any indication. The serious downside was that I'd inadvertently garnered the attention of a powerful vampire. Yay me.

I decided to act stupid in the hopes of losing his interest quickly. “Me? I'm Zoe.” I gave him a bright smile.

His eyes narrowed. “Not what I meant. Who are you?”

I gave him an innocently confused look. “I told you already, my name's Zoe. My brother and I are visiting New Orleans for a little bit.” A very little bit. If I had my way we'd be on the road by nightfall, destination: anywhere but here.

I turned to go, but his hand shot out to grab me by the elbow, this time his grip not so gentle.  
  
“Maybe I'm not making myself clear enough,” he said, his tone dipping dangerously low. “Allow me to rephrase: _what_ are you?”

I tensed, contemplating the logistics of breaking free. On one hand, he was very strong, probably stronger than I was. On the other hand, I didn't think he actually wanted to hurt me; if he meant me serious harm I'd already be in little bloody pieces on the ground. Which left me with a handful of increasingly idiotic options.

I could tell him a lie and hope he bought it; the downside for that being that if I told him a lie and he didn't believe it he might try to kill me.  
  
I could tell him the truth. I wasn't fond of that idea, either, because he would either a) believe me and try to kill me for being an abomination or b) think I was lying and try to kill me for that.

I could try breaking free and running away, but truthfully I doubted I would get very far; I was quick on my feet, but vampire super-speed is whole other level of fast. And if I pissed him off by running, he might try to kill me for _that._

As my mind churned out increasingly ludicrous ideas, I scanned the crowd for Ezra. Where the hell was my brother? It was like he'd up and disappeared from the face of the Earth. And his timing could not have been worse. If there was ever a time I needed some brotherly assistance, it would totally be now.

“Well?” Elijah demanded, his grip tightening ever so slightly, bringing what had previously been just discomfort to something closer to pain.  
  
Which set off the wolf in me, the wildness in my blood rising up more suddenly than I was used to, eclipsing my growing anxiety. “I'm complicated,” I growled, meeting his dark gaze without flinching. “Let me go. _**Now.**_ ”

He seemed startled by my sudden change in attitude, and released me, more out of surprise than anything, I think. I knew my eyes weren't glowing gold like they sometimes did when my wolf surged (I could sense it when my eyes _did_ change) but something in my appearance must have been strange, because he continued to stare at me, his expression both puzzled and intrigued. “What are you?” he asked again, his tone this time more curious than hostile.

The wildness in me receded as the threat from him diminished. But I still gave the same answer. “Complicated,” I replied evenly, straightening my jacket sleeve where he'd crinkled it.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but the interruption I'd been praying for cut him off.  
  
“Zoe!”

I spun around, grateful beyond words to see my brother shoving through the crowd to get to me.  
  
“Ezra,” I exclaimed in relief, reaching out for him without quite meaning to; it was an instinctive thing, needing physical comfort from my twin.

He grabbed my hand as soon as he got close enough, pulling me into a tight hug. Then he released me, turning a death glare on Elijah, who was watching us with an inscrutable look on his face. “Stop harassing my sister,” Ezra said, his voice almost a growl but not quite. I doubt Elijah was impressed, but I was warmed by my brother's over-protectiveness. Not that he was wrong to be protective of me; I was out of my depth with this vampire, and we all knew it.

Not that Elijah could actually _kill_ me (I _was_ immortal, after all) but getting hurt still hurts, and if he gave me a fatal injury and I didn't die? Well, that would raise a whole other slew of questions. Difficult, awkward, and all around unpleasant questions, like “ _hey, why aren't you dying?_ ” and “ _Cursed to immortality? How does that happen?_ ”. And my personal favorite: “ _how rich will I be if I tip off your psychotic uncle that you're here?_ ”

Take it from me, that's a conversation best avoided.

Which made it priority number one for me and my brother to get away from this handsome vampire before he started asking more questions I couldn't answer.

“It was nice meeting you,” I said to Elijah, and was surprised to realize that it didn't actually _feel_ like a lie to me. Weird.  
  
He arched an eyebrow, clearly not believing me, but nodded. “I”m sure we'll run into each other again.”  
  
_Don't count on it, buddy,_ I thought. I had every intention of being well outside the city limits as soon as humanly possible. But he didn't need to know that, so I pasted a smile on my face, said “Sure,” and proceeded to drag my brother behind me as I fled to the safety of our old battered truck.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is an Elijah POV chapter! Yay! (Sadly, it's a bit on the short side. Sorry about that.)

“ **There's no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another.”**

* * *

 

  
  


Elijah watched the strange woman (Zoe, she'd called herself) as she left with her brother. He wasn't sure what to make of her, and not just because she'd been immune to his compulsion, something that was virtually impossible.

With dark brown hair that fell to her waist in thick lush waves and enchanting forest green eyes, there was just something about her that piqued his interest. Which was interesting in and of itself, since women in general didn't really capture his attention lately; he was too preoccupied with other things. Like his brother Niklaus, his brother's ex-lover who was impossibly pregnant, the witches who were holding said pregnant girl as leverage to convince him to help dethrone Marcel who -oh what a coincidence- had been turned into a vampire by Klaus himself years and years ago.

It all came back to his little brother one way or another, and as much as Elijah loved Niklaus, there were times like these where he'd love nothing more than to throttle the hybrid for the complications he was causing for all of them.

Complications...Hmmm. Zoe had described herself that way, “complicated.” Since he'd been unable to even identify what she actually _was_ , he couldn't help but agree.

There had been a hum of power around her that had made him think she was a witch of some sort at first, but when he'd caught a whiff of her scent as he'd grabbed her he hadn’t been able to detect the telltale tang of witchcraft. Instead, her scent was something he wouldn't have expected, an interesting combination of strawberries and cream, a delicate scent for someone who certainly didn't make him think “delicate” when he looked at her. Slender, suspicious, and skittish were more what came to mind, although she certainly hadn't been timid or fearful when she'd demanded he release her; she'd almost looked a little feral as she'd snapped at him, her expression almost reminding him of Klaus when his brother got especially prickly about Elijah's hovering.

Yes, complicated was an apt description. If he didn't have to deal with his brother and the witches and Marcel _and_ Hayley, he might have followed after Zoe and her brother just to satisfy his curiosity.

As it was, his obligations to his brother and the pregnant werewolf girl came first, so he shifted his attention back to the task at hand: figuring out what exactly Jane-Anne Deveraux had been doing before Marcel's vampire's had caught up with her. He knew better than to trust Jane-Anne's sister Sophie for the truth; the girl was far from neutral in this situation, and witches could be just a manipulative as anyone else. So he'd have to find out for himself what exactly was going on in New Orleans.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get to see the twins realizing that Elijah is an Original. :D It's a short chapter, but a necessary one.

“ **What one needs to do at every moment in one's life is to put an end to the old world and to begin a new world. ”**

* * *

 

 

I relaxed in my seat as Ezra drove us back to the motel. Putting distance between us and the inquisitive well-dressed vampire was lowering my blood pressure nicely. Then my _brother_ started asking questions.

“So,” he prompted, “who was that?”  
  
I gave an indifferent shrug, hoping he'd drop the subject if it seemed like I didn't care. “Some vampire. He was asking questions about Jane-Anne.”  
  
Ezra slanted me a look that said he wasn't buying my act. “Did he have a name, this vampire?”  
  
“Elijah something-or-other,” I answered absently, suddenly distracted by my phone vibrating in my pocket; no one but my brother had the number and he was clearly not calling me, so who could it be? I fumbled in my pocket, trying to pull it out.

“Elijah something-or-other?” my brother repeated, arching an eyebrow. “You didn't catch a last name?”  
  
“I wasn't really paying attention,” I admitted, still distracted with extracting my phone from an absurdly deep pocket. “I think it was Mitchell or Michaels or something like that.”

Ezra slammed on the brakes so hard I jerked forward then crashed back in my seat, my neck cracking from the sudden whiplash. My phone, finally retrieved, went flying out of my hands to tumble to the floor. “Dude, what the hell?” I demanded.

“Mikaelson,” he said flatly. “Elijah...Mikaelson?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I yanked at my seat belt, which was taking its job way too seriously and not letting me move an inch for safety's sake. “Stupid child-safety deathtrap,” I muttered, trying and failing to get more slack.  
  
“Zoe,” my brother snapped, his tone frustrated. “Focus, please. Are you sure it was Mikaelson?”

“Yes, yes, I'm sure. Elijah Mikaelson.”

Ezra groaned, the sound so heartfelt that I stopped my seat belt struggles and turned to stare at him. “What's wrong?” I asked.  
  
He looked at me. “You're kidding, right?”  
  
“I tend to smile when I'm kidding, Ezra, so no, I'm not.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Mikaelson, Zoe. Don't tell me you don't know the name.”  
  
“It did sound familiar when he said it,” I admitted, “But other than that...” I bit my lip, starting to feel anxious. “Why are you acting this way? Is he someone important, or something?”

“Oh, not really, “ my brother drawled sarcastically. “His family was only the first group of vampires ever created in all of history. Totally nothing major.”  
  
“Oh.” Then it really hit me. “ _ **Oh.**_ ” I started to feel the first stirrings of alarm. “He's an Original.”  
  
“The oldest of the surviving three, if the rumors are to be believed.” Ezra put the truck back into drive and pulled back onto the road.

I sat back in my seat, too shocked to say anything at first. “Well, crap,” I said at last. “An _Original_? What's he doing here in New Orleans?”  
  
Ezra shrugged. “I heard a rumor once from a wolf in New York that their family all but founded New Orleans.”  
  
I frowned. “If they founded it, why is this Marcel guy in charge?”  
  
“Who the hell knows,” he grumbled as we pulled into the motel parking lot. “Vampire politics, man.”

So...Mr.-Sexy-Suit-and-Tie was an Original. It might have been stupidly ignorant of me, but I didn't actually know that much about them. I knew the basics, of course: they were the first vampires ever, they couldn't be killed, and pissing them off was pretty much suicide.

That I'd gotten uppity with an Original made my stomach go sour; having done so without even knowing Elijah was an Original at the time just made the feeling worse.

I desperately hoped that we'd never cross paths again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how short these last couple chapters have been. Don't worry, though; longer chapters are definitely on the horizon. :)


	6. Chapter 6

 

" **I had a dream, which was not all a dream.** "

* * *

I tossed my duffel into the cab of the truck for the fifth time, only to have my brother haul it right back out again. Also for the fifth time.

"Ezra," I growled, glaring at him.  
  
"Zoe," he said evenly, his tone of voice indicating that he thought I was being completely ridiculous. "You're being silly."  
  
"Silly?" I repeated in disbelief. " _Silly?_ " I shook my head. "Are you freaking bipolar or something? _You_ were the one who was so worked up over Elijah being an Original!"

"I wouldn't call it 'worked up'," he grumbled.  
  
"And now I want to leave," I went on, "get out of the city where witches are being executed, where werewolves have been exiled, where _one of the first vampires of all history is living_. And you think I'm being _silly_." I snatched my duffel bag out of my brother's grip and threw it back into the truck. "It isn't safe to stay here, Ezra! There's too much going on!"  
  
"But that's exactly why it _is_ safe!" he argued, expression earnest.

I stared at him. "Come again?"  
  
"Look, Zoe," he said, "With so much other crazy stuff going on, no one would ever think to look for us here. I mean, we tend to ship out when things get complicated, right? And our uncle _knows_ that. He wouldn't expect us to stay here in New Orleans, not with all this drama going on."

I wanted to disagree on principle, but I couldn't help but admit that my brother's logic made sense. In a zigzag squint-to-see-it sort of way, at least.

"Come on, Zoe," Ezra coaxed. "Give it a couple weeks, at least. What can it hurt?"

Well, depending on who I potentially got on the wrong side of, it could hurt a lot. And I'd been battered and maimed enough in my life to know that even though I was immortal, it never got any easier to deal with being in pain, even knowing I'd eventually be all healed up. My brother and I weren't vampires, able to turn off our feelings at will; we still felt everything as keenly as we had before being cursed, whether it was emotions or physical pain.

But...my brother was willing to stay here and risk it. My brother, who was still recovering from what had happened in Baltimore all those months ago. Who had every reason and then some to want to play things on the safe side.  
  
And he wanted to stay.

I wanted to argue, say it was insane and stupid and we shouldn't, but in the end I didn't. Ezra obviously wanted to stay pretty badly, and I couldn't seem to say no to my twin. 

"Okay," I said, relenting. "We'll stay. For one month," I added sternly. "If I still want to leave after that, we're going. No arguments. Agreed?"  
  
His face lit up like I'd declared Christmas to be a month-long holiday. "You're not going to regret this, Zoe, I promise."

I was pretty sure that I _would_ come to regret it sooner or later, but what the hell. You only live once, right? Even if you're immortal.

I retrieved my duffel bag with a sigh and trudged back into the motel room, glad to have made my brother happy but worried about how easily this could go so very badly wrong.

When I went to bed that night, my dreams were plagued by vicious phantoms. Assassins wielding black daggers, feral wolves on a rampage in the streets, witches hexing left and right. All that and more chased me around in circles within my nightmares. One terrible dream stuck with me, though for what reason I couldn't say. Perhaps the bizarre and unlikely way it had ended.

In the dream I was surrounded on all sides by enemies, villains who were fighting tooth and nail to bring me down. There was blood and screaming and pain. And fighting besides me, trying to protect me, was not my brother Ezra. It was Elijah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let you all know that starting today, I will be posting various little things on my tumblr regarding Inevitable, much like I'm planning to do with my Star Trek fic Elaria. My username over there is yuzukimist and the blog itself is called Moonlit Ramblings, so if you guys have any interest in my amateur quotepics or little spastic updates about how frustrating it is for me to write certain characters, or maybe even sneak peeks at upcoming chapters(!), feel free to swing on by. There won't be a whole lot there to being with, but it'll definitely be worth it in the end. :D


	7. Chapter 7

**"How funny it is that the most unlikely person sometimes becomes your ally."**

* * *

The next two days that passed by were surprisingly uneventful. Day-to-day activities consisted of me going to look for apartments and employment while my brother acted like a tourist. I would've been annoyed with him, but he seemed to be having such a good time that I couldn't quite find it in me to stay mad at him. I hadn't seen him so cheerful since Baltimore; it was refreshing to see my brother acting more like himself.

That being said, I _could_ have used some help with the responsible-adult things like finding a place to live that didn't charge two hundred dollars a night and smell like baby barf.

I was on my way to check out a studio for rent a few blocks away from the apartment building I'd just finished touring when something totally unexpected happened.  
  
I'd decided to walk over to the studio, since driving the same distance in the mid-afternoon traffic would very like have taken twice as long. In retrospect, I maybe should have bitten the road rage bullet and just driven. Then again, it probably wouldn't have made any difference in the end.

In any case, one moment I was strolling down the sidewalk, immersed in thoughts of square footage and rental deposits, the next moment I was being snatched into a sketchy alleyway in the unrelenting grip of a curvaceous blonde bombshell.

“Where's my brother?” she demanded, slamming me against the wall. “Tell me where he is!”  
  
What. The. Hell.

I felt my wolf rise up inside me, snarling; I took a deep breath, struggling to rein in my temper. I was not a huge fan of being manhandled by strangers in the best of circumstances, which these clearly were not. “Who the hell's your brother?” I snapped, trying and failing to keep my tone of voice level.

“Don't play dumb!” She tightened her grip on me. “I know you know him! You were seen talking together!”  
  
I refrained from rolling my eyes, but only just. I'd been talking to all sorts of people for the past two and a half days, so her statement clarified absolutely nothing.   
  
“A name,” I said, gritting my teeth. “ I need a name.”

“Elijah,” she growled, eyes flashing angrily.  
  
Wait, what? “ _You're_ Elijah's sister? You're an Original,” I realized, then frowned in confusion. “Elijah's _missing_?” In hindsight, I realized that I hadn't seen him around town since the day we'd met; since I hadn't been overly eager for round two, I'd simply been relieved and hadn't thought about it much past that. “Since when?”

She released me, looking puzzled. “You really don't know anything.”  
  
I crossed my arms. “I know plenty of things, thank you. But not where your brother is.” A thought occurred to me. “Who told you to come after me?”

The blonde vampire gave an elegant shrug. “The dead witch's sister, what's her name?” She snapped her fingers. “Sophie, that's it. Said she saw the two of you chatting it up at her sister's vigil and that you might know where he's disappeared to.”

Sophie Deveraux moved immediately to the top of my New Orleans blacklist. Who the hell did she think she was, siccing an Original on me? “I did talk to your brother a couple days ago,” I acknowledged, “but it was a pretty short conversation. Maybe fifteen minutes, tops.”  
  
The vampire looked disappointed. “Damn.”  
  
I relaxed a little, since it didn’t look like she was going to slam me into the wall again. “Sorry,” I offered, then frowned. “What's your name, anyway? You didn't say.”  
  
“Oh, didn't I? I'm Rebekah. You?”

“Zoe,” I said, offering my hand.

She shook it. “You _really_ don't know where my brother is?” she repeated hopefully.  
  
I shook my head. “If I did, I'd tell you.” Something crazy occurred to me, and I blurted it out without thinking. “But I could help you look for him, if you want.”  
  
Rebekah looked startled. “Why would you do that? I thought you barely knew him.”  
  
“Well, yeah, but that's no reason not to help you. I know if my brother went missing, I'd want all the help I could get.”  
  
Rebekah looked at me intently for a moment, as if she was deciding whether I could be trusted or not, then smiled. “In that case, sure. Thank you.”  
  
I smiled back, but deep down I couldn't help but wonder what the hell I'd just gotten myself into.


	8. Chapter 8

“ **Don't be afraid of being different. Be afraid of being the same as everyone else.”**

* * *

Our first stop was Sophie Deveraux's place, partly because she'd misled Rebekah, which made Rebekah pissed, and partly because that misinformation had led Rebekah to _me_ and _I_ was pissed.

Poor Sophie. Ticking off two immortals with one little lie. I couldn't help but wonder why she'd even bothered lying in the first place. What on earth was she hiding that made her so desperate to send Rebekah haring off randomly?

We entered Sophie's place without knocking and the young witch jumped in surprised when she came out of a back room and saw us standing there.

“I see you found her,” Sophie said to Rebekah.  
  
“I did,” Rebekah said, a too-sweet smile on her face. “You forget to mention the part where she barely even knows Elijah.”  
  
“Really?” She shrugged indifferently. “Could've fooled me. They looked pretty cozy from my viewpoint.”  
  
“If you can call an interrogation cozy, sure,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Look, I really _don't_ know Elijah, but if you have any idea where he _actually_ is, we'd really appreciate it.”  
  
“Don't you think I'd like to find him, too?” Sophie snapped. “He promised to help us deal with Marcel.”  
  
“Only because you're using Hayley's pregnancy to blackmail him!” Rebekah argued, looking annoyed.  
  
Whoa. Pregnancy? “Who's Hayley?” I asked, feeling like I'd missed a step somewhere along the way.

“Some werewolf girl,” Rebekah said, waving a hand dismissively. “My other brother Niklaus knocked her up and now little Sophie here is using the mum-to-be and her unborn baby as leverage to convince my brothers to help her overthrow Marcel.”  
  
My mind wobbled under information overload as I digested all of that. I kept getting stuck on one thing, though. “Wait,” I said, “but you guys are vampires. Vampires can't get people pregnant. It's biologically impossible.”  
  
“But Klaus isn't a normal vampire,” Sophie interjected. “He's part werewolf, a hybrid.”  
  
My brain went curiously quiet as those words registered. _A hybrid_ , I thought, _like me and Ezra_. Not quite like us, I knew; vampire-werewolf instead of witch-werewolf, but still...the idea that there was someone else who was torn between two heritages was...overwhelming, to say the very least. The implications were staggering. And a _baby_? Then I frowned. “Why are you blackmailing Elijah if it's Klaus's baby?” I asked Sophie.

Rebekah snorted. “Because Klaus is a selfish wanker who only cares about himself.”  
  
“He didn't believe us about the baby,” Sophie added. “We needed Elijah, the honorable one.”  
  
“The honorable one,” I repeated skeptically, slanting a look at Rebekah. “I wasn't aware there was such a thing as an honorable vampire.”  
  
Rebekah gave a thin smile. “Elijah can be extremely dangerous if you cross him, but he does have a pretty solid sense of responsibility.”

“Huh. Good to know.” I turned back to Sophie. “So, you have no idea where he is?”

The witch shook her head. “The last I saw of him, he was chasing after Klaus. Klaus came back later to pick up Hayley and said that they'd come to an understanding, but I haven't seen Elijah since.”

Rebekah growled. “Bloody bastard,” she hissed. “I'll kill him.”

“Who?” I asked, confused. “Elijah?”

  
“No,” she snapped, looking furious. “Klaus. I should have realized form the start that Elijah's disappearance was his doing.” She turned back to Sophie. “Thanks for the help,” she said curtly, not sounding sincere at all. “Zoe, let's go.”

I followed after her, not really wanting to argue with an angry Original. I'm not quite _that_ stupid. At least not usually. “So,” I said at last as we walked down the street, “your brother was kidnapped by...your other brother? How does that even work? I thought you guys were invincible or something.”  
  
Rebekah snorted. “Don't I wish. No, there are these magic daggers; they put us into an enchanted sleep. Klaus must have used one on Elijah.”  
  
“He daggered his own brother?” I asked, aghast. I couldn't imagine doing something like that to _my_ brother. Ezra and I had our disagreements, but I loved him more than anything or anyone else; I'd sooner slit my own throat than hurt my twin.

“Oh, trust me, Klaus is not a cute and cuddly little brother. He's daggered all of us at one time of another, even me.”  
  
I did not even know what to _think_ about that, much less say, so I skipped ahead to course of action. “What're you going to do?” I asked her.

Rebekah pursed her lips. “I”ll talk to Nik tonight, and depending on what he tells me...we'll see.”  
  
That sounded decidedly ominous, but I decided not to comment on it. “So...I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?”  
  
She stopped walking, looking startled. “You're going to keep helping me?”  
  
I scowled. “Of course I am. I said I would, didn't I?”  
  
She just stared at me for a long moment, then gave a dazzling smile that lit up her entire face. “It's not often that people want to help me...just because. Thank you, Zoe.”

“You're welcome, “ I said, feeling a little embarrassed. What kind of life had she been leading, that such a simple kindness could affect her so strongly?

We exchanged cell phone numbers, then went our separate ways.  
  
I hopped into the truck and headed back to the motel, cringing when I realized that I was two hours late. I hoped Ezra wouldn't be too upset with my tardiness. And I prayed that he wouldn't ask for the reasons.


	9. Chapter 9

“ **Fate doesn’t ask you what you want. Fate knows what’s best even if you don’t.”**

* * *

I was engulfed in a massive bone-cracking hug the minute I stepped over the threshold into the motel room.

“Where the hell were you?” Ezra asked as he held me, his voice a worried growl. “I was scared something had happened to you!”  
  
I flinched, feeling unbelievably guilty. I hated causing my brother to worry, and being two hours late to get back home was definitely worrisome. Especially with a coven of witch-assassins hunting for us, along with whatever other fun surprises our uncle decided to send after us.

Yeah, being late for a check-in was totally not okay.  
  
“I'm really sorry for worrying you,” I murmured, hugging him back fiercely. “I didn't mean to be gone for so long. Time just...got away from me.”  
  
He pulled back and looked down into my face with a frown. “That's not like you,” he remarked. “Did something happen?”

Ah. Crap. Moment of truth. Literally. “Well...” I twisted my hands together nervously. “I was sort of...grabbed off the street? Not by any assassins,” I added hastily. “Just an Original.”

“ _Just_ an Original?” Ezra repeated in disbelief, then scowled, a hint of overprotective-brother mode creeping into his voice. “That Elijah guy again?”  
  
“Uh, no, actually.” Why was everyone assuming Elijah was interested in me at all? We'd only had that one conversation and I hadn't seen him since. “It was his sister Rebekah.”  
  
My brother looked like I'd clubbed him over the head. “There's _another_ Original in town?”

I chuckled nervously. “Try all three.”

“What?!”

I nodded. “Yep. Elijah, Rebekah, and their half-brother Klaus.”  
  
“Why?” Ezra asked, looking aggravated. “What about New Orleans is so great to warrant the presence of all three Originals?”

“Well, they're the only ones left of their whole family and there's a baby on the way. Bonding time, maybe? Then again,” I added thoughtfully, biting my lip, “if Klaus really is behind Elijah's disappearance, then I guess they're not really getting along that well right now, huh? Hmm...”

Ezra stared at me like I'd suddenly started speaking Welsh. “Elijah's missing?” Then he did a double-take. “Wait, a _baby_?”  
  
I nodded sagely. “The Mikaelson family is expecting a new addition.”

“But...they're vampires!”

“Ah, yes. But Klaus is apparently half werewolf. So...loophole, I guess?”

Ezra looked stunned. “A hybrid?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Not quite like us, but...yeah.”

He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, looking shocked. “That's...”

“Yeah,” I said again, because what else was there to say? We'd thought that we were the only “mixed breeds”, so to speak, among the main species of supernaturals. And now to learn of another hybrid, one that probably should have been impossible? Not to mention his baby, which _definitely_ should have been impossible.

“And Elijah's missing?” Ezra asked again, rubbing his face tiredly.  
  
“So Rebekah says, and I'm inclined to believe her; she seemed sincerely worried.”  
  
“And she thinks her _other_ brother is responsible?”

I shrugged. “From what Rebekah said, Klaus doesn't seem to be very people-friendly.” I went on to relay to him what Rebekah had told me, about the mystical daggers and so forth.

Once I was done elaborating on the day's events completely, my twin looked like he was one short step away from a migraine.

  
“This is completely ridiculous,” he muttered, then shook his head. “What the hell, Zoe? You say you didn't want to get mixed up in anything, then go and get yourself involved with the _Originals_. Tell me, please, how is that low-key?”

“It's not like I meant to get involved,” I said defensively. “It just...sort of happened. Besides,” I added, “Rebekah needs my help to find her brother.”  
  
He snorted. “I doubt she needs help with much of anything. Can probably snap her fingers and have a whole harem of drooling men ready and willing to do her bidding.”

“Ooookay,” I said, raising my hands in a let's-take-it-down-a-notch gesture. “Let's not judge so harshly; you don't even know her, and it's not her fault she's pretty. Her looks aren't the topic here in any case. Elijah's missing, and she doesn't want to have to find him all by herself.”

“But you said it's probably her other brother Klaus who's responsible for nabbing Elijah, right? Won't rescuing Elijah piss _him_ off?”

“I was trying not to think about that part,” I said with a sigh. Rebekah had said that Klaus wasn't the nicest guy around and I was inclined to believe her about that, too. So, yeah, saving someone Klaus wanted out of the way was probably not the brightest of ideas. All the same...

“I promised Rebekah that I'd help her,” I reminded my brother. “You know I don't break promises.” I'd only ever broken a promise once in the past ten years, and the end result had been so disastrous that it had cemented my word-of-honor convictions even more firmly upon my soul. Promises were to be taken very, very seriously.

I could lie or abuse a loophole along with the best of 'em, but I would sooner let my uncle torture me for the next century than break a true promise.

Ezra looked at me hard for a moment, but he knew better to argue with me about this. “Alright,” he said at last, relenting. “I won't try to stop you. But,” he added, “I'm going with you. I'm not letting you do this alone.”


	10. Chapter 10

**"I may fight with my siblings. But once you lay a finger on them, you'll be facing me."**

* * *

 As was usually the case when my brother did something brotherly, I was torn between wanting to hug him and wanting to strangle him.

On one hand, I loved that he wanted to have my back as I dove headfirst into the Originals' family drama. On the other hand, I'd just gotten my brother dragged into the family drama of a group of siblings notorious for treacherous and violent behavior. Not to mention the apparent penchant for backstabbing.

Yeah...not one of my better decisions, this. Props to my twin for supporting me in such an insanely stupid decision; maybe I wouldn't strangle him after all.

I woke up the next morning, the knot of foreboding in my stomach making me downright nauseous. Ezra, strangely, seemed fairly cheerful given the circumstances; I think he found it refreshing that I'd been the one to get us into a troublesome situation this time instead of him. Not that the bad things that happened to us were _always_ his fault, but he did have a higher percentage than me.

Rebekah called me at seven thirty, and told me to meet her again at Sophie's. “I've had an idea,” she said, “about how to locate Elijah.”  
  
“Klaus didn't tell you where he's stashed him?” I asked.  
  
“No,” she said, sounding disgusted. “He doesn't even seem to care at all. Bloody bastard. So our only option is to find Elijah ourselves.”  
  
“I can be at Sophie's in fifteen minutes,” I replied, deciding not to mention the fact that Ezra was coming with me.  
  
“See you there,” was Rebekah's response, followed by the hang-up click and a mournful sounding dial-tone. _There is absolutely no way this is going to end well_ , I thought glumly.

Ezra rode in the passenger seat while I drove, since I knew where Sophie's was and he didn't. We arrived to find Rebekah waiting for us, leaning casually against a bright red convertible that had probably cost more than a resort house.

“Good Lord,” Ezra muttered, looking annoyed. “Could she be anymore of a stereotype? Sexy blonde vampire with a red convertible?”  
  
I shot him a glare. “She's not actually like that.”  
  
He made a disbelieving sound. “Uh-huh.”  
  
“At least _try_ to behave, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, fine.”

I gave him one last warning look before stepping down out of the truck and waving to Rebekah. “Hi,” I said.  
  
“Hi,” she said back, then frowned as Ezra came around to stand beside me. “You didn't mention that you were bringing company.”  
  
“This is Ezra, my twin brother,” I explained. “He decided to tag along for a bit.”  
  
Rebekah gave a faint smile. “Don't trust me not to eat your sister?” she asked him.  
  
He smiled back a little then seemed to catch himself and schooled his expression back into looking stern and serious again. “Something like that.”

Rebekah looked at him contemplatively for a moment, her head tilted slightly sideways, like a cat watching something that had piqued its interest. “Okay,” she said at last. “The more the merrier. Now, let's go have another chat with our friendly neighborhood witch.”

Ezra and I trailed after her as she led the way into the building. Sophie did not look happy to see us again. Her eyes darted to the phone on the wall and I couldn't help it, I snickered a little. “Who would you call?” I asked, amused. “The cops?”

“I don't think little Sophie's that stupid,” Rebekah said sweetly. “Marcel owns the police force, after all, along with all the other branches of the local government that could potentially impact him. He probably wouldn't like to hear that yet another Deveraux witch was stirring up trouble.”  
  
“I'm not stirring up anything,” Sophie snapped.  
  
“Really?” Rebekah arched an eyebrow. “So you've given up on avenging your sister and overthrowing Marcel?”

Sophie just glared at us. “What do you want?”

“Well, my evil brother refused to talk to me last night, but if I had to guess, knowing Klaus's history, Elijah has a dagger in his chest. It's a magical object, you're a witch. Do a locator spell, locate the dagger, locate Elijah.”  
  
Sophie shook her head vehemently. “No way. I can't use magic. It's punishable by death. Marcel's rules. And don't even think about threatening me,” she added. “I'm still linked to Hayley, so you can't risk hurting me.”

Rebekah pursed her lips. “Luckily for you, Elijah seem to care about that werewolf girl, otherwise I'd break your neck right here.” She turned away to inspect the pictures hanging on Sophie's wall. “How did Marcel get so bloody powerful, anyway? He wasn't like this when I left a hundred years ago.”  
  
Sophie shrugged. “Marcel has a way to tell whenever there's magic done in the Quarter.”

“But he's a vampire,” I objected. “Vampires have no access to magic on their own, the transformation cuts off the connection. He shouldn't be able to sense the magic on his own. So how is he doing it?”  
  
“The 'how' isn't relevant,” Sophie said curtly, slamming that conversational door shut right in my face.  
  
“I'll tell you what's not bloody relevant,” Rebekah snapped, whirling back around. “A coven of witches who can't do magic. Here's an idea: move away.”  
  
“We practice ancestral magic,” Sophie replied. “The cemetery is filled with the remains of our witch ancestors.”

“If you left, you'd be powerless,” I remarked.  
  
Sophie nodded. “If we run, we're leaving our legacy behind. Our home, our family.”  
  
Rebekah snorted. “Well, family is overrated. Look at me. I'm back in a city that's given me nothing but heartache, looking for a brother who's hellbent on protecting a baby I don't care about.”  
  
Sophie looked at her thoughtfully. “I find that hard to believe. You're here, aren't you?”  
  
“I'm here for Elijah,” Rebekah replied. “The instant I find him, I'm gone. He was the one who idiotically believed this baby would be Niklaus's redemption. And now he's missing, probably at the hands of Klaus himself. And you,” she went on, jabbing Sophie in the chest, “were foolish enough to believe that Elijah could convince Klaus to go against Marcel, when everyone knows they have a history.”

Wait, what? The vampire king of New Orleans had a history with the Mikaelsons? I slanted a questioning look at Ezra who shrugged; he obviously had no idea what Rebekah was talking about, either.

“Klaus sired Marcel,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes. “I'm aware.”  
  
Wait, _**what?!**_   I opened my mouth to go 'what the hell', but Rebekah had already started talking again.

“You don't understand,” she told Sophie. “Marcel is not just some guy Klaus turned into a vampire. Klaus loved him like a son.” She sighed. “I was there the day that they met. We were burying Emil, the governor’s son...or so we thought. Turns out the governor had another son, from a mother that he owned.” She bit her lip. “Klaus saw himself in the boy. He remembered how our father used to beat him. He, too, was the bastard child of a man who saw him as nothing but a beast. And that is why your plan will fail,” she concluded, fixing Sophie in a pointed stare. “All you've done is bring back together two long-lost souls. Without Elijah between them, who knows what they'll do.” With that proclamation, she turned on her heel and left without another word.


	11. Chapter 11

“ **F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or ‘Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.”**

* * *

Sophie whirled around to me and Ezra the second Rebekah was out of earshot. “You have to help me.”

I stared at her. “You're kidding, right? Obviously, I'm here to help Rebekah find her brother. Besides, you seem to have pissed off everyone powerful in this city. Klaus, Elijah, Marcel, Rebekah.” I ticked the names off on my fingers as I went. “That sort of track record is not encouraging, Sophie Deveraux.”

“If you'd been more helpful in locating Elijah, we might've considered it,” Ezra remarked, “but there's just nothing we can do for you, sorry.”

She stared at us, horrified. “How can you just leave me to fend for myself like this?”  
  
I snorted. “Please. You've got your coven backing you. It's not like it's you versus the world.”

“Well, that's sure as hell what it feels like!” she snapped. “How can you just turn your backs on us, on our fight? I can tell you're witches, too!”

I went very, very still, and could sense Ezra do the same across the room. “I'm afraid you're mistaken,” I said carefully, keeping my voice even and controlled, my face deliberately blank.

Sophie shook her head. “No,” she insisted, “I'm not. I have a sensor spell on my threshold,” she explained, pointing to the doorway. “It alerts me when a witch who's not in my coven crosses it.”

“Your spell obviously needs some fine-tuning,” Ezra said coldly, tensed as if for a fight.

She gave him a dirty look. “My spell is just fine, thanks. Now stop lying. I know you're both witches. So why the hell are you helping the Originals?”

The wolf in me snarled; it wanted to attack, to eliminate the threat this witch-girl posed, and a dark part of the rest of me felt the same. _But she's linked to the pregnant werewolf_ , I reminded myself. _Kill her, and Hayley dies, too._

At which point I would be public enemy number one to the Originals. So I couldn't do anything to Sophie. It _was_ tempting, though. “Rebekah's right,” I told Sophie. “That linking spell really is the only thing keeping you safe right now. But Hayley won't be pregnant forever, so I'd recommend against making any more enemies for yourself.”

She snorted. “Please. What's one more person who wants me dead? You'll have to get in line. And you didn't answer my question. Why are two witches helping the Originals?:”

“Quit while you're ahead, Sophie Deveraux,” I advised. “We don't answer to you.”

With that, Ezra and I left, and upon reaching the street saw that Rebekah's convertible was gone and that there was a note taped to my windshield. _Going to find Marcel,_ it read. _I'll text you later. -Rebekah_.

“Yeah,” Ezra drawled sarcastically once he read the note, “she totally needs our help.”

I elbowed him in the stomach. “Would you stop? She must have her reasons for asking me to come today.”

“Maybe she's just lonely?” he offered.

I looked at him, surprised. “You think so?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. That's why you're really doing this, isn't it? Because _you're_ lonely?”

“What?” I frowned. “No, that's...” _Not totally wrong,_ I had to admit to myself. “Look, that's not the point,” I said, shaking my head.

Ezra rolled his eyes, but let it go. “You think she was bluffing about the sensor spell?” he asked instead, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate Sophie's place.

I bit my lip. “God, I hope so. But she's not really the type to bluff, is she?”

He sighed. “Didn't seem like it, no.”

“So she knows we've got witch in us,” I mused. “And thinks we're full-blooded witches working for the Originals.”

“That could actually work to our advantage,” Ezra remarked.

“Or go very, very badly if she tells her theories to the wrong sorts of people,” I replied, worried. “If any of the assassins get word that two new witches just popped up in New Orleans? They're not stupid, they'll figure it out eventually.” The assassins were witches, too, which added yet another layer of complication. _Because regular assassins weren't enough of a problem already_ , I thought irritably.

Ezra rubbed the back of his neck, looking stressed. “And here we thought New Orleans was going to be our nice little vacation period.”

I sighed, and hopped into the truck. Ezra followed suit, stuffing Rebekah's note into the glove box. I buckled my seat belt, glared at my brother until he buckled his, then pulled out into the street-traffic, heading in the general direction of the motel.

I was pulling onto a side-street to get around a patch of gridlock that I didn't have the patience for when it happened. One second I was humming to the radio, hands all ten-and-two on the steering wheel, brother by my side, and the next thing I knew, we were being slammed into by a massive black SUV.

It rammed into the truck so hard we went tumbling down the road, the truck flipping over so many times it was like being on one of those hellish fifty mile per hour carnival rides but worse.

My face slammed into the steering wheel at least twice, and the second time I both felt and heard the distinctive crack that meant I'd broken my nose. I also felt some ribs break, in that uniquely agonizing way that ribs do, all stabbing into your lungs and shit. Not to mention where the driver's side of the car had been crumpled in on itself from the impact; I could feel myself bleeding from all the deep gashes I'd gotten from being impaled by angry metal. I was pretty sure I'd dislocated my left shoulder somewhere along the way, too, though I was so muddled I couldn't think of how exactly.

My brother, I knew, was probably not in any better shape than I was. I attempted to twist around to see him, but the sharp shooting pains from all over my body told me that moving right now was not such a good idea. I was also prevented from doing so by the discovery that the place where the door had smashed in on me was pinning me in place, which made trying to move largely futile anyway.

I was halfway content to just lie there and wait for the paramedics to show up; it wasn't our first car crash, after all,. And sneaking out of the hospital later wouldn't be too terribly hard.

All those nice simple thoughts flew right out the window when I saw two Shadow Coven assassins get out of the SUV that had rammed us.

“Shit,” I breathed, trying not to choke on blood from what I suspected was a punctured lung. “Ezra,” I wheezed, reaching towards my brother. “Get up.”

He groaned, clearly not liking the thought of being conscious and being in pain.

But we'd be in a lot more pain if the Coven captured us and delivered us to our uncle. “Ezra,” I said desperately. “Get up. _**They're here.**_ ”


	12. Chapter 12

**"When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on."**

* * *

 I struggled to disentangle myself from the twisted wreckage of what had previously been our old semi-reliable truck. I felt absurdly guilty for having always complained about the truck's various flaws, but quickly sidelined that spurt of emotion. My brother and I were about to be attacked by two Shadow Coven assassins and we were currently trapped and unable to defend ourselves. It was not the appropriate time to mourn the freaking car.

I kicked at the windshield, which was so cracked and damaged I could barely see though it. I kicked again, trying to knock the glass loose. Instead of the glass breaking, however, I felt my ankle crack, and belatedly remembered that kicking out the door-glass is smarter because it's not as absurdly strong as the windshield. I attributed this stupidity to my concussion and twisted as best I could to slam my elbow into the glass of my driver's side door, which was somehow still mostly intact despite that being the side we'd been rammed on.

The glass erupted outwards, but gravity brought some of the shards back towards me; they came pattering down on my head and sliced itty bitty cuts across my face. “Because I'm not covered in enough blood already,” I grumbled under my breath.

Ezra, beside me, was finally stirring. “How close are they?” he growled, being in a position where he couldn't see the assassins' approach.

“Um...” I craned my neck around, ignoring the jolt of pain that lanced down my spine. And promptly felt an explosion of panic race through me, because the two Shadow Coven witches were closing the distance fast; they were only a few hundred feet away now. “Too close for comfort, brother mine. We need to get the hell out of here.” I grabbed my dagger and cut through my seat belt, crashing to the ground in an undignified sprawl. Very undignified, since one leg was still pinned where the truck door had crumpled in around me.

Before I could do something dramatic like hack my own leg off, Ezra was there, prying my leg out of the remains of the door. “How'd you get free so fast?” I mumbled, concussion and blood loss making my woozy.

“Because I'm cleverer than you,” he replied, tone teasing despite the dire circumstances. I said a few rude words that don't really bear repeating, then let him drag me out of the wreckage and swing me up into his arms. I would have protested being treated like the damsel in distress, but there was no arguing the fact that I'd gotten the worst of it in this crash. A quick glance told me that my brother was also very battered, but not quite so badly as me.

Yay me.

Ezra only managed to carry me for five and half blocks, though, before he had to set me down. A closer inspection of my twin revealed that he'd broken his right ankle.

“Ezra!” I shouted. “Why'd you carry me on a broken ankle?! Idiot!”

“You're welcome,” he snapped, eyes flashing angrily as his wolf surged, brought to the forefront by the emotional cocktail of pain and anger.

My own wolf was one tiny step away from a similar fury, my leash on that side of myself dangerously frayed. “Ahhh!” I snarled, beyond fed up with this whole mess of our lives. A huge part of me wanted to turn right around and go after the assassins that had run us off the road. A teeny tiny part of me pointed out that I was not exactly in peak physical condition and wouldn't be said condition unless I went right to bed and got twenty solid hours of sleep.

The huge angry part of me won without much internal argument, and I whirled around to go make some witch-assassins bleed. Ezra made a sound of protest, but his own injuries seemed to have finally caught up to him and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious once more.

I limped to the mouth of the alley where Ezra had brought us, and was not particularly surprised when the two Shadow Coven witches jumped me.

Before I tell you any more, I suppose I should explain the Shadow Coven a little more.

Basically, they've a group of dark witches, and by that I mean black magic, black hearts, and black souls. They're all evil to the core, with no compassion or mercy at all. They're also all killers. It's a coven of witches who do double-duty as assassins.

And currently, they're employed by my dear uncle Reginald. He's hired them to deliver my brother and myself to him, using any means necessary.

A car crash was actually not too drastic for them; they'd once demolished an entire subway station in an attempt to get at us. Oddly, we'd come out of _that_ better than we had in this little road-rage incident, which I found amusing. Or _would_ find amusing, anyway, once the urge to rip out their throats had been quenched.

In any case, they jumped me the second I stepped out of the alley. There were two, a woman and a man. For further clarification, and to avoid unneeded confusion during the course of this narrative, I have a tendency to call evil male witches 'warlocks'; my brother teases me about it, saying I watched too much Charmed while we lived in San Francisco, but I believe in trying to have as little gender confusion as possible, so there you have it.

The Shadow witch wielded a long black staff etched with symbols of dark power; the warlock had no conventional weapon, but was wearing silver punching knuckles, which gave me pause. I may have mentioned it before, but the downside of being a witch-werewolf hybrid was that, while I did have the perks of both sides, I also had the weaknesses. And some decidedly un-funny genetic quirks, like being allergic to silver. Normal werewolves aren't bothered by it. Me and my brother? Very, _very_ bothered.

A hit from silver knuckles would be extremely unpleasant, and would likely even slow down my overall healing factor. And God only knew what spells were on the witch's staff.

I should have run. Really, it was the tactically smart option.

For better or worse, I am not smart when it comes to tactical retreats.  
  
I attacked.

I slashed at the witch, slicing across her cheek with my dagger, cutting her so deep I could see the white flash of bone. The wolf in me howled in triumph, and I couldn't help but grin in a bizarre sense of exhilaration. I don't consider myself bloodthirsty by nature, but there is an undeniable wildness in me that won't ever be tamed, and it was in situations like this that it rose to the surface. Since these assholes wanted us tortured and killed, I couldn't find it in me to be troubled by how easy it was to maim them without regret.

The warlock with the silver knuckles swung at me, and managed to connect, hitting me on the shoulder. The punch itself didn't touch my bare skin, but I could feel the tingle of the silver even through the fabric of my jacket. Also, it was my dislocated shoulder he hit, which hurt like a bitch.

I retaliated by grabbed his arm and breaking his wrist. Even exhausted and injured, I had werewolf strength on my side; his wrist snapped easily and he screamed in agony. I followed up with a hard kick to his groin and he crashed to the ground bawling like a baby.

I was a little _too_ distracted by the sight of a grown man screaming and writhing on the ground, though, because it gave the witch whose cheek I'd laid open a chance to come at me again. She smacked her staff into my stomach (and my broken ribs, dammit!) and I finally learned what the markings on her staff were.

Fire runes.

Oh joy.

I said several unladylike words as my shirt caught on fire. Then I did the sensible thing, which they teach to all little kids. Stop, drop, and roll.

I dove to the ground, tumbled across the asphalt, then bounced to my feet, sore and covered in dirt and grime, but definitely not on fire anymore.

Then I grabbed the witch's staff, bashed her over the head with it, and snapped it in half, eliminating the magic that was contained within it. Then I stabbed one piece of the staff into the witch's heart, and the other half into the warlock's.

Looks like this round went to me.

Zoe Storme: 1, Shadow Coven: 0.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! It's an Ezra P.O.V. chapter! Because he's a main character too, and it's important to see things from his perspective once in a while. :) In any case, it's a shorter chapter than usual, but hopefully you'll still like it. Enjoy!

_“ **Family: an anchor during rough waters**_ **.”**  

* * *

Ezra absolutely hated being helpless. It was at the top of the ever-lengthening list of things he couldn't stand. So when he came to again in the alleyway he and Zoe had taken shelter in and saw that his sister wasn't there, he wanted to shoot himself in the face.

He hadn't been able to block out the pain from all the internal injuries he'd sustained in the crash, and vaguely recalled collapsing and blacking out after Zoe had yelled at him for running five blocks on a broken ankle. Because he'd been too pathetic to cope, though, his twin was now out there somewhere, fighting off psychotic soulless assassins. By herself.

God, there were just some days where he totally hated himself. Today was unarguably shaping up to the one of those. He sighed, trying to sit up without doing more damage to his body. Zoe had definitely _looked_ the part of a car wreck victim, her normally pretty face caked in blood from her broken nose and the cuts from the glass, but Ezra hadn't gotten off lightly, for all that _he_ looked mostly undamaged; he'd stupidly unbuckled his seat-belt before the crash, and had consequently been slammed all over the inside of the truck cab when they'd been hit.

If he'd been human, he'd have already died from massive internal bleeding and organ failure. As it was, he just really _wanted_ to die; every little movement was agonizing and he could _feel_ his body trying to heal the most critical bits of damage with limited success. The curse that kept him and his sister from dying was indisputably powerful...but that being said, it did have a harder time healing some types of injuries.

Gashes, bruises, and things like that were fairly easy to heal, and generally didn't take that long depending on the circumstances.

Broken bones could take longer, depending on the severity, but were also not too complicated.

Internal damage, though...that's where it could get tricky. The human body is simply not built to survive certain things and it knows it. So, yeah. The curse was healing him, but it was an uphill battle; he'd likely still be recovering from this accident weeks from now.

 _On the plus side_ , he told himself, _it can't possibly be any worse than re-growing your heart._

That had been excruciatingly painful every step of the way, and had taken _months_. It was why he'd stalled so long on their road trip down to New Orleans; he hadn't wanted to enter a new territory while still in recovery mode. He hadn't told Zoe that, of course; she'd thought he'd already finished healing and was just enamored with hopping all over the map.

He hadn't wanted to worry her, so he'd kept the real progress of his healing to himself. Even now, he wasn't entirely certain of the healing; he still had a massive scar on his chest from the incident in question, and it seemed to show no signs of fading anytime soon like all his other scars had done. Zoe had seen the scar, of course, but didn't seem overly troubled by it, pointing out that if there was ever an injury that would scar, it would make sense for it to be that one; he had, after all, had his heart carved out of his chest.

How in the hell had his body kept functioning all that time without a working heart, anyway? _That_ made _**no** _ sense.

God, if he ever got his hands on that traitorous bitch Sirena, he was going to tear her apart.

His black thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of his sister, who'd returned to the alleyway and was coming towards him. As she got closer, he was that she was holding her shoulder and seemed to be covered in even more blood than before.

“Zoe?” he said uncertainly.  
  
“I took care of the assassins,” she told him, voice low and hoarse from pain. “Those two won't be bothering us again.”

He nodded; he was relieved at the news itself, but he also couldn't help but feel bad for his sister. He hated that she'd needed to do this, needed to fight and kill just to protect their freedom. Not that he hadn't killed his fair share of assassins, too. And it was hardly the first time they'd clashed with the Shadow Coven. They were both murderers in the name of self-defense, and the fact that it had become so easy for them to kill...well, it worried him more than a little.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.  
  
She hesitated. “I will be,” she said at last.  
  
Knowing that that was the best answer he could hope for, he nodded. “Well, let's get going then. Police'll be here soon. Don't want to answer all those pesky questions, do we?”

Zoe shook her head, and started limping towards the other end of the alleyway. She paused at his side to offer him her elbow. “You look like crap,” she told him, her tone exhausted but affectionate.  
  
“I love you, too,” he grumbled, leaning on her without objection.

It's what they always did when things got rough, emotionally and physically. Leaned on each other. Because that's what family did.

They supported one another.


	14. Chapter 14

“ **When all thoughts are exhausted, I slip into the woods...”**

* * *

Through some miracle, we made it back to the motel without further incident, though we did have to stick to alleys and side-streets to avoid terrifying the poor tourists. When we did make to back to our room, I was overcome with relief; if we could just rest and regroup, everything would be okay.

This little bubble of optimism popped when my brother puked blood all over the floor.

A distant part of me was thinking _Good thing that's hardwood and not carpeting._ But mostly I was preoccupied with Ezra and the fact he was _throwing up blood_.

That spoke of serious internal damage, and I wanted to kick myself for not doing a more thorough inspection of my brother's injuries.

I bolted across the room to help him into the bathroom. He accepted the assistance without objection, collapsing to his knees once we reached the toilet. He gagged, then threw up another mouthful of blood.

My own stomach churned nauseously from worry. I'd been planning to do a short shopping trip to the little pharmacy down the street in the morning, once I'd recovered a bit, but I was rapidly recalculating my plan. Going right now might definitely be better. I could get some painkillers, and gauze to wrap up the worst of our external wounds. And if I could get my hands on a car, I could do even more and swing by the herbal remedy store I'd seen in the Quarter. Because painkillers were all well and good, but my twin and I (Ezra especially) needed something inexpensive and effective to assist in the healing process.

There was obviously not flat-out cure-all for our injuries but through years of trial and error we'd discovered that some herbs aided our healing processes, the most notable of which was shepherd’s purse, which could be helpful in certain situations.

It wasn't really a rare herb, and not particularly effective in medicine for normal humans, but something about our unique genetics made it more powerful for us. If I could get my hands on some, it would help with all the bleeding Ezra and I were dealing with, both external and internal; something to do with how shepherd's purse constricts the blood vessels and slows the flow of blood or some such thing, I don't know.

The main point: if I could somehow get to both the pharmacy and the herb shop, we might just be able to heal within a few days, instead of a few weeks. And since the Shadow Coven had obviously already located us, it was imperative that we not be vulnerable any longer than absolutely necessary.

But there was no way in hell I was hoofing it to the French Quarter from here. It was a ridiculous walk in peak condition, and I'd just been in a massive car accident and fought to the death with two assassins. It was a miracle I was vertical; walking clear across town was totally out of the question. Hell, I'd probably collapse from exhaustion and blood loss halfway there. As much as it rankled, I just wasn't physically capable of it right now. So...I needed a car.

As Ezra left the bathroom and went over to collapse onto his bed, I went and peeked out the window, and was dismayed to see that the only other car in the motel parking lot was the owner's Volkswagen station wagon. Now, don't get me wrong; I love VWs and I love station wagons. But that thing was older than I was and I'd seen turtles that moved faster. Which left me with only one option, really.

I dialed the number Rebekah had left for me on the truck's windshield earlier in the day.

She picked up on the fourth ring, sounding faintly annoyed, like I'd caught her at a bad time. “What?”  
  
“It's Zoe,” I said, muffling a cough as my lungs reminded me that they'd been stabbed into by my ribs. “Are you busy right now?”  
  
“No,” she replied, sounding angry. “I was with Marcel, but he's refusing to give straight answers to any of my questions. I don't know what I ever saw in him. He's an arrogant self-centered ass, just like every other man in the world.”  
  
“I'm sorry to hear that?” I offered, not sure what else to say. “Look, I kind of need a favor if you're not busy right now.” I leaned over my brother and checked his pulse rate. I bit my lip anxiously; it was thready and erratic, and much too fast. “Ezra and I...had some trouble, a little while ago. I need a ride to get some medicine and things. Can you drive me?”

“What happened to your truck?” she asked, sounding both surprised and worried.

“It won't be driving me anywhere anytime soon,” I replied. “If it even drives ever again. Pretty sure it's totaled.”  
  
“Damn,” was all she said in response. “That sucks.”

“Look,” I said, starting to feel more than a little desperate. “Can you drive me or not? Because I'm watching my brother get worse and worse by the minute and I'm not really doing so hot either. I know we just met and you probably couldn't care less about us but I could really use a friend right now. Please, Rebekah.”

A silence so long and still that I began to wonder if she'd hung up on me.

Then her voice came across the line, soft and serious. “I'll be right there,” she promised.  
  
“Thank you,” I whispered, and gave her the motel address.

I tucked my phone into my pocket and sagged down onto the edge of my brother's bed. Help was on the way, in the form of an unpredictable vampire I'd known for less than a day.

Unable to sit still even though moving hurt, I paced the motel room anxiously. As I circled the room over and over again, I hoped and prayed that I hadn't made a mistake in calling her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, normally I don't do author's notes here on AO3, but I feel obligated to mention that I have no real deep knowledge of herbal remedies or plant-based medicine. I have a fairly basic understanding of herbs and botany in general, but more or less pulled together what little I knew and mixed in a lot of my own original thought. So, yeah, if you get in a car crash, don't go to a herb shop, go to an ER. XD


	15. Chapter 15

**"...And gather a pile of shepherd's purse."**

* * *

I am not typically a hysterical or weepy woman, but when Rebekah's sleek convertible pulled up outside, I couldn't help but let out a sob. "You're going to be okay," I whispered to my twin as I ran a gentle hand through his hair, flinching when my fingers came away stained red from a gash on his scalp I hadn't noticed before. "You're going to be okay," I repeated more firmly, reminding myself that of course he'd be fine, he was as immortal as I was. I just needed to hurry and get some medical supplies and those herbs, and everything would be fine.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I grabbed my battered purse out of my duffel bag, stuffed my wallet and keys inside, then hustled over to the door. I yanked it open to see Rebekah standing on the threshold, hand raised as if to knock.

Her hand froze mid-motion as she took in my appearance, her mouth forming a small 'O' of surprise. "Bloody hell," the Original said, eyes wide. "You 'had some trouble'?"

"Yeah," I said weakly. "Some trouble."

"Your brother?" she asked, peering around me to look into the room. "Oh. He isn't looking so good, is he?"

I swallowed hard. "No, he's not. Which is why we need to _hurry_. Please, Rebekah, I need to get some supplies right away."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then shook herself. "Right, of course. Come on, let's go." She grabbed my elbow and pulled me after her, deftly plucking my motel key from my shaking fingers and locking the door behind us as we left, thoughtfully hanging a Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob as a safety measure against snooping maids. "Where do you need to go?" she asked as we got into the car and pulled out of the lot.

I struggled to get my thoughts in order. "There's a little 24-hour pharmacy not far from here; we'll go there first," I said at last.

"Lovely. And after that?"

"There's an herbal remedies shop I saw the other day that'll have some things I need. It's called...Gai-something-or-other, I think."

"Gaia's Remedies?" Rebekah asked. "Over in the Quarter?"

"That's it! I need to go there, too, after we hit the pharmacy."

Rebekah nodded. "Okay, then. Let's get this little shopping spree started."

Twenty minutes later we left the pharmacy with our arms full of bags that were overflowing with medical supplies. Hydrogen peroxide, alcohol, antiseptic cream, more rolls of gauze than I could count, bandages of all sizes, pain medicine, fever medicine, nausea medicine, sleep medicine, headache medicine. You name it, I bought it, using up a massive chunk of the money I'd originally planned to use on a rental deposit in the near future.

Since I definitely looked the part of an accident victim, it was thanks to Rebekah's compulsion that the store clerk didn't pick up the phone and dial 911 the second my bloody and battered self walked in the door. I managed to stammer out my thanks as we piled the bags into the backseat of the car, but she just waved it off. Then gave me a severe look that had me leaning away.

"What is it?" I asked warily.

"You're shaking like a leaf," Rebekah answered, inspecting me with a critical eye. "And you're pale as a sheet."

"Sh-shock," I replied shakily. "I'm going into shock, I think." Honestly, it was surprising it hadn't hit me before now; it must have been the adrenaline keeping it at bay until now.  
  
"...Are you sure you don't need a real doctor, or something?" the Original asked after a moment of silent driving. "I mean, I'm no expert but you probably need some sort of, I don't know, professional help?"

I gave an undignified snort. "I need professional help, that's for sure. But for now...just get me to Gaia's. Please."

"...Sure thing."

We arrived at Gaia's Remedies what felt like five centuries later, but in reality it was probably only twenty or thirty minutes. Shock and mind-numbing panic have a curious ways of distorting one's perception of time, I've noticed.

In any case, we finally made it. I stumbled from the car and up the front steps to the entry door of the store, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Welcome," chirped the girl behind the counter. "How may I-" a series of rapid blinks as she saw my blood-caked clothes."...help you?"  
  
"I need some shepherd's purse and horsetail," I said without preamble. "As much as possible."

The clerk stared at me, her expression half alarmed  and half confused. "Uh, okay. Sure. Do you want it dried, or fresh? Powdered?"

"Fresh would be best, but I'll take anything you have," I said, glancing over my shoulder as Rebekah came in. "I need to make a poultice with the horsetail and brew a restorative tea with the shepherd's purse."

"I can put together some things for you," the clerk said uncertainly, "if you want me to."

"That would be fabulous," I said sincerely. "Thank you."

The clerk nodded and went around to a long work table and began preparing the items. Once everything was ready, she packed it all up in a box and passed it to me across the counter. I thanked her, tipped generously, and all but knocked Rebekah over as I spun around and bolted out the door like I had hell-hounds on my tail.

Rebekah's aggravated voice followed after me as the vampire herself did the same. "I know you're in a hurry to get back to your brother," she was saying, "but I really think you need to just take a few minutes to calm down." She grabbed my arm when I didn't respond. "Zoe, seriously. Look at me." Her grip tightened. "Zoe."

I glanced over, not bothering to mask my frustration. "What?" I snapped.

"Just listen to me for a _second_ , okay?" she said. "Look," she went on, "I don't know who you or your brother are. Or why you're here, or why it is that you're able to stand there and talk to me as if you hadn't just been in a fatal car crash a couple hours ago."

"Rebekah-"

"What I _do_ know," she said, speaking right over me, "is how it feels to be frightened for your family. And that panic can cause you to slip up, Zoe, to make mistakes where normally you wouldn't. Like now. If I hadn't been here to compel those storekeepers into forgetting that they saw you all covered in blood, what would you have done?" She shook her head. "Just trust me, okay? And take a second to calm down. You can't help your brother if you're about to spiral out of control yourself."

I opened my mouth, to say what I don't know, when suddenly I crashed into someone else hurrying down the sidewalk.

"Watch it, bitch," the man snapped, and a whiff of his scent -blood, dirt, and death- told me that he was a vampire, though I noticed that he didn't have a daylight ring like some of the others I'd encountered in the city; I briefly wondered if the absence of such a ring was significant, but those thoughts scattered as I was shoved aside from behind from another vampire, who moved to join his friend. "You heard him, girl, move it." Then, to his friend: "Come on, man, let's go. Marcel wants that wolf dusted sooner rather than later."

The other vampire chuckled as he and his partner moved away, apparently dismissing me and Rebekah as threats. "Twenty bucks that I can get the wolf first."  
  
"No way, man. You've bagged more than your fair share of wolf heads already. Let me have this one."

A growl rolled out of my throat before I could stop it. "Rebekah," I began to say, "I know you're not going to like this, but-"

"Put your things in the car," she said, cutting me off, "and let's go after them."

I stared at her stupidly, then hastened to obey, dumping the box of herbs in the backseat along with the other supplies.

"Why are you helping me to help a werewolf?" I asked her as we hurried after the other vampires.

She gave me a funny sideways look. "The way I see it, you were going to go after them with or without me; at least together we'll have a better chance of containing the situation in case they have more friends with them. Also," she added, "there's only one werewolf in all of New Orleans who's pig-headed enough to stroll into the Quarter in the middle of the night when she's supposed to be hiding out somewhere safe."

"Hayley," I realized. "The pregnant girl."

"Yes. And if anything happens to her or her baby this city will drown in a bloodbath in no short order. My brother Klaus may be a bastard through and through but he's more skilled in vengeance than anyone else I've ever met. If something happens to Hayley while she's under his protection, his wrath will be unstoppable."

Note to self: avoid upsetting Niklaus Mikaelson. I had one revenge-obsessed psychopath after me and my brother already. I did not need another.

I paused as we reached Bienville Park and a breeze blew across my face, bringing with is a fresh batch of scents. I'm not always so sensitive to smells, but my werewolf side graces me with better olfactory senses than most people, and with my inner wolf so close to the surface that sensitivity was heightened even further.

Right now, I was picking up the scents of several more vampires in addition to the two we'd already encountered. I also picked up a scent that I thought belonged to the Hayley girl; a faint aroma of wolf and woman, with a slight hint of some sort of sickly sweet perfume. Wait, no...I inhaled again, and scowled. It wasn't perfume I was smelling, it was wolfsbane.

 _Why does Hayley have wolfsbane?_ I wondered, beginning to worry. "You should hurry," I said to Rebekah. "The two from before are about to reach Hayley."

Instead of asking 'how do you know that?', Rebekah just gave me an unreadable look and asked "What about you?"

"There are a few more coming around from the other side," I explained. "You go help Hayley, and I'll deal with them."

She eyed me doubtfully. "Seriously? You look like one stiff wind will blow you right over."  
  
"I'm tougher than I look," I assured her. "Now hurry, Hayley needs you."

She hesitated, then she was gone, rushing off in the blink of an eye with her vampire speed.

Which left me to confront the three new vampires who were rounding the corner, eager bloodthirsty grins on their faces.

"Sorry, boys," I said as I stepped into their path, blocking their advance. "No more wolf hunting tonight."

They exchanged looks with each other, then laughed. "And who's gonna stop us, little girl?" one asked, looking amused. "You?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, baring my teeth in a feral smile. "Me."

The first vampire, the one who'd spoken, attacked me first. I managed to hold my own well enough, but I was still wounded from the car crash. I'd fixed my dislocated shoulder, but it still hurt like a bitch and my range of motion with that arm would be limited until I finished healing for real. Add in the broken ribs, the broken ankle, and everything else and I was clearly at a disadvantage in a fight against three vampires in top condition.

Or at least I was in my human form.

My wolf body wouldn't have as hard a time; a shift would boost my healing, and I'd have fangs, claws, and much more mobility.

It was a no-brainer. I shifted, opening myself up to that other side of me, willingly unhooking that mental leash I kept my wolf-self tethered to. I felt the change roll through me like a hot wave, my skin and muscles rippling and shifting as the wolf magic pulsed through my body and changed me into my other form.

As a wolf, I'm average-sized, with brownish-black fur. Pretty standard and normal-looking at a first glance. Not being a massive hulky wolf, I don't necessarily inspire intimidation when in my wolf form. Unless of course I'm up against vampires. Because if they've seen me shift, then they know I'm a werewolf, at least partially. And werewolf bites are toxic to vampires, which is one of several reasons why the two species don't get along so well. Regrettably, my bites aren't _deadly_ toxic since I'm only a half-breed, but a bite from me in wolf form will still poison a vampire and make them pretty damn sick.

Add in the fact that my jaws can crush bone and the odds of this fight suddenly didn't seem so bad.

I sprung up from the ground and locked my jaws around the first vampire's throat. I squeezed until his windpipe shattered and blood gushed from his mouth. Then I dropped his body to the ground and moved on to the next vampire, tearing out his throat in a similar fashion. A strong vampire would eventually recover from these types of injuries, but these vampires seemed too inexperienced, too fresh. Add in the fact that they'd be poisoned from my bite and they were as good as dead.

The last vampire, though, proved himself to be cleverer than his two fallen companions; he was careful to keep his distance from me, not letting me get in close enough to bite him. We circled around each other a bit, looking for each other's openings, until finally I managed to dart forward and nip at his ankles, causing him to stumble. I took immediate advantage of said stumble, and promptly jumped up and ripped his throat out. He gave hoarse scream and crumpled to the ground, even as his blood spurted into the air and matted in my fur.

The hot stickiness of the blood in my fur, combined with the thick iron tang of it hanging heavy in the air should have affected me in some way, made me disgusted, or at least faintly nauseous, but it didn't. And the fact that it didn't should have bothered me too, but that didn't trouble me, either.

I knew the reason, of course. When in my wolf shape, my wolf side is more dominant than my more human half, meaning that things that would like result in alarm or disgust from human-me barely get a passing glance from wolf-me. A wolf is a predator, after all, and a predator doesn't find bloody carnage to be particularly disturbing. Throw in the fact that I have a higher tolerance for bloodshed than most people even in my human shape and it really wasn't surprising that I wasn't feeling much as I stood there with my paws in a pool of a vampire's blood. All the same, I knew that staying in my wolf shape for too long was risky, and not just because of the apathy; if vampires were actively hunting werewolves in the Quarter, then being in wolf-shape was dangerous.

I decided to shift back into my human shape after nosing around the vampires to make sure that they wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. The shift in reverse was much more difficult than my transition into wolf-shape had been; I was going from my strong wolf body back to my battered human one, and as I re-took my usual shape all the pain came rushing right back, the agony of it so intense that it made me double over gasping.

There was one small blessing at least: my clothes came back as my body returned to human shape. I know it makes no sense. They should have been shredded and destroyed when I shifted the first time, right? But for some reason that's not how it works for me or my brother, at least not usually. Our clothes just...vanish, when we change form. There's likely some sort of ridiculous magical explanation for it out there somewhere, but all I know is that when I change into a wolf, my clothes disappear. And if I'm very lucky, they'll come back when I shift back into human form. Not always, though. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't.

Needless to say, when they came back this time, I was very happy about it. Running around naked in the French Quarter was not my idea of a good time.

After patting myself down to make sure that all my articles of clothing really were present and accounted for and not about to fall apart at the stitches, I broke into a light jog and headed for the direction Rebekah had gone in to find Hayley, not entirely sure what I would find once I got there.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

 " **Only the dead have seen the end of war."**

* * *

 I reached Rebekah in time to see her in the middle of a relatively heated conversation with a woman I could only assume to be Hayley.

"What were you thinking?" Rebekah was saying. "Coming out here in the middle of the night, putting yourself at risk like this-"

"It's my own business," Hayley shouted back. "I won't be controlled by you or your brother or anyone else ever again. I just want to be free!"

I coughed loudly to draw their attention. "Uh, hi," I said as they whipped their heads around to stare at me. "Sorry to interrupt, but those vampires back there," I gestured in the vague direction of the three vampires I'd taken down, "and these ones here," I pointed to the two Rebekah had evidently dealt with, "are going to be missed sooner or later. When Marcel realizes that they didn't come back from their wolf hunt, he'll get suspicious." I looked at Rebekah pointedly. "I'm hoping you have a plan?"

She sighed. "I wasn't thinking beyond needing to protect Hayley and her baby." She shook her head, looking dejected. "I don't see a way around it: we need to tell Klaus."

"What?" Hayley shook her head wildly. "No. No way!"

"Why?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. "He's been protecting you, right? And he's the father of the baby you're carrying, doesn't he deserve to know?"  
  
She snorted. "Please. He didn't care about me when we slept together, and he doesn't care now. He's defending a potential weakness, that's all."

"That you and your baby are a weakness implies that he  _does_  care," I felt obligated to point out. "Otherwise it wouldn't be a weakness."

The werewolf woman just glared at me defiantly.

I rolled my eyes and looked to Rebekah. "Look," I said, "this whole baby drama really has nothing to do with me. I signed on to help you find your brother Elijah, that's it. So I'll defer to your judgment for how to deal with  _this_  mess." I nudged one limp vampire with my boot. "If you think telling Klaus is the best plan, go for it. But do me a favor and drop me off at the motel first; I need to tend to Ezra." A brawl with some of Marcel's vampires hadn't changed my priorities. My brother was still my main concern, and I hadn't forgotten the critical condition he'd been in when I'd left with Rebekah.

"Who's Ezra?" Hayley asked, then frowned at me. "And who the hell are  _you_? Another vampire?"

I made a face. "Hell, no. Do I look like a freaking vampire to you? Jeez."

"Do you really need to sound  _so_  disgusted?" Rebekah asked dryly.

I gave her a cheeky smile. "Yep."

She shook her head, looking faintly amused. "You're an interesting woman, Zoe, that's for sure." She looked over at Hayley and sighed. "Alright, I'll drop you off at the motel on our way back."  
  
"Thanks."

Rebekah broke several speeding laws on the return trip to the motel, but since she was rushing me back to my badly wounded brother who was in dire need of the medicines I was bringing with me, I voiced no objections whatsoever. Hayley, on the other hand, let out several exclamations of alarm and fury whenever we whipped past a stop sign or through an intersection without stopping, but Rebekah paid her no attention other than an occasional "Hush up, please."

She dropped me in the motel parking lot, promised to call me once the dust had settled, then tore out of the parking lot with a screech of tires.

I didn't bother to watch her headlights disappear into the night, I was already unlocking the motel room door and elbowing my way in, arms full of boxes and bags of supplies. "Ezra?" I called out, dropping my bags onto a nearby dresser and flicking on the light.

My brother was not where I'd left him, in bed. Instead, he was sprawled out on the hardwood floor, curled up into fetal position, his skin deathly pale and his breathing ragged.

"Ezra!" I exclaimed, rushing over to him. Kneeling down, I cradled his face in my hands, alarmed by how hot his skin felt. "Ezra? Can you hear me?"

"...Zoe?" my brother croaked, his voice shaking and weak.

"Yeah, Ez, I'm right here," I whispered. "I'm here."  
  
"You were...gone," he gasped.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, reaching over to snag a bag of pharmacy supplies. "I had to go get some medicine to help you." I pulled out a bottle of painkillers and some fever medicine. "Here, take these; I'll grab you some water." I hurried to the sink in the bathroom, filled up a cheap plastic cup with tap water then hurried up back to my brother, helping to prop his head up so he could sip the water and swallow the pills.

Once I was certain he wouldn't choke on the water, I left him to drink the rest of it on his own and inspected the box the herbalist had given me. Opening it, I saw that she'd been true to her word and had prepared everything I'd needed. I heaved a huge sigh of relief and quickly prepped a couple of horsetail poultices, applying them tenderly to the worst of his injuries. Then I re-purposed the motel room coffee machine to brew the shepherd's purse tea, which filled the motel room with a strange earthy smell. I made sure my twin drank a full cup of the tea before letting him return to bed and rest.

Only once I was sure he was sleeping moderately peacefully did I start to tend to my own injuries. I started off by drinking the shepherd's purse tea and swallowing down some pain pills of my own. Then I set about cleaning out my injuries with hydrogen peroxide and alcohol, biting my lip to keep myself from screaming out as the liquids did their work and burned the dirt and germs from my wounds. Deciding not to bother with the antiseptic cream since I'd have to re-bandage the wounds again in a couple hours anyway, I opted to just wrap everything in gauze and bandages and hope for the best.

Then I collapsed onto my bed and burrowed under my covers, sleep swallowing me up the second my head touched my pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than last time, I know. Sorry. XD  
> Anyway, just wanted to thank all of you for reading this fic; I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. :D  
> Also, if anyone's interested, I've started up a sort of companion thing to go along with this; it's basically just some quotepics I made to go along with the story because I was bored one day and spend too much time online. XD Anyway, it's here on AO3 as "Inevitable: Screenshots" or something like that, so if you want to check it out, there you go. It's under my same username so it's not hard to find. XD It's not necessary to check out the pics to enjoy the story, but if you were wondering what Zoe and Ezra look like to me in my head, maybe go check it out.  
> Anyway, see you next time!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time it's...a chapter with Klaus! Finally! Are you guys excited? I know it's sort of ironic/annoying, Klaus having his story debut seventeen chapters in when he's one of the main characters, but at least he's here now.  
> Anyway, I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude for all you fantastic readers out there who are following this story. Thank you so much! You guys rocks!

" **Sometimes you have to accept the fact that certain things will never go back to how they used to be."**

* * *

" _This_  is why I told you never to leave the house," Klaus said angrily, dragging the last of the vampire bodies over into a pile. "Werewolves are banned in the Quarter. I had a plan, and your little nighttime stroll put it all in peril! Leave him," he added, snapping at Rebekah as she made a move towards one of the vampires who was still alive. "You've done enough, don't you think? Leaving a trail of bodies like a road map to my door?"

Rebekah shook her head furiously. "Oh, come on. If Zoe and I hadn't overheard his lot bragging about werewolf heads, everyone here would be screwed. And don't give me that crap about having a plan," she added. "You've had all the time in the world to execute a plan, and no one's seen you do a damn thing! Elijah made a deal to protect  _your_  child, so that it could save you from your selfish, rotten self. But you obviously don't give a damn about the child  _or_  Elijah, because what have you done to honor it?"

Klaus's eyes flashed angrily. "I have done everything. Let me spell it out for you, shall I? From the day I arrived, Marcel hasn't trusted me. From Day One, he's had his vampires ingest toxic vervain which, as you know, little sister, protects them from my mind control. I needed a spy," he went on, "someone on the inside with me who Marcel would never suspect. So, I created a Day Zero and got there first." He gave a smile that lacked amusement. "Marcel had just lost six vampires, thanks to your little murder spree, and he needed new recruits. So, I made the new one mine, before he'd had even a drop of vervain. But," he added, "we all know the real way to a man is through his heart, so...I paid the lovely Camille a visit."

Rebekah stared at him in silence, shocked.

"And this one," her brother went on, "I'm gonna drain him of vervain, compel him to believe his mates found religion and moved to Utah, so that he can explain to Marcel why he lost five  _more_ vampires tonight." He dragged the vampire in question after him as he headed back inside the house. "Now, does anyone have any more questions? No? Good, because I have a few questions of my own. Who is this Zoe you were with?" he asked Rebekah. "You've never mentioned her before."

Rebekah waved a hand dismissively. "Just some girl I ran into the other day."

Klaus narrowed his eyes. "Some girl who just happened to be with you when you eliminated five vampires?"

Rebekah crossed her arms. "Let it go, Nik."

He smirked. "Fine, I will. For now. Because I have a much more pressing question." All amusement dropped from his face as he turned towards the one who'd remanied silent for the entire conversation so far. "Hayley, what were you doing in the bloody French Quarter in the first place? Answer me!"

"Leave her be," Rebekah snapped.

"You wanna know what I was doing?" Hayley said viciously. "I was buying poison, so I could put your little baby out of its misery."

Klaus was on her before she could blink, grabbing her in a fercious grip and pinning her to the wall as she clutched at her throat and gasped for air.

"Nik! NIK!" Rebekah tackled her brother at vampire speed, horrified by his behavior. "Keep your hands off her! She is pregnant, for God's sake!" Then she realized what had set him off, and tried to gentle her tone a little. "All of this bluster about not wanting the child, and then the second she tells you she's ready to get rid of it? It's okay to care. It's okay to want something. That's all Elijah was trying to do, all he's ever wanted for you. All  _we've_  ever wanted."

Klaus, looking like he'd been hit with an emotional train, sat down shakily. After a moment, Rebekah sat down beside him.

"I gave Elijah to Marcel," he told her hoarsely.

She stared at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"Marcel was nervous," Klaus explained, clearly trying to justify his actions to her. "It's bad enough one Original returned to town, but two? His crew was getting antsy. He wanted Elijah gone, so... I gave him a peace offering."

" _You bartered our brother?_ " she snarled.

"I have a plan," he insisted. "Gain Marcel's trust, dismantle his empire, honor Elijah's wish that that baby be born." He took a deep breath. "I am executing that plan the only way I know how. If you don't like it, there's the door. See if I care." He waved a dismissive hand at her then rose to his feet, leaving the room without another word.   
  
Rebekah leaned back, arms crossed and expression thoughtful. After sitting there for a moment, though, she re-located to the back porch, thinking that maybe some fresh air would clear out the muddle of her thoughts. To her surprise, Hayley came out to join her after a short while.   
  
"I know you don't know me very well," the werewolf girl said, "... but thanks. I appreciate what you did in there."  
  
Rebekah smiled faintly. "Us girls have got to look out for each other."  
  
"What is it with you two?" Hayley asked suddenly. "You say you hate him, but the way you deal with him, it's so clear. Even when you hate him, you still love him."  
  
Rebekah sighed. "I guess when you spend a thousand years with someone, deciding to quit them is like losing a part of yourself. But sometimes the hate is just... so powerful. Emil wasn't the only boyfriend of mine that Klaus killed. He did it again, and again, and every time I found someone to care about. He just kept doing it until, finally, I stopped falling in love. He said he was protecting me from my mistakes, that no one was ever good enough for his little sister. Until one day, someone was." She swallowed hard. "But that ended even worse than all the rest." She shook her head. "Without Elijah to temper his behavior, there is no keeping Niklaus in check. It was difficult even  _with_  him, but with him gone..."   
  
"If you know Marcel has Elijah, why don't you just get him back yourself?" Hayley asked.  
  
"Because it was Nik's idea to give Elijah to Marcel in the first place. And if I cross my brother, there's still a coffin downstairs with my name on it."  
  
Hayley eyed Rebekah for a moment, then reached down and carefully unwrapped something she'd had hidden. As she finished unfolding it, it became clear that it was two silver daggers. "Oh, my god," Rebekah said, shocked.  
  
"I found them under your coffin," Hayley explained. "So, if a couple of antique steak knives were the only things stopping you from getting Elijah back, then here you go."   
  
Rebekah took them, looking awed. After a moment, she looked up at Hayley and smiled. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
Hayley smiled back. "Us girls have to stick together," she echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know, I know, it's a really short chapter. In my defense, it's my first Klaus chapter and I was feeling pretty unsure of myself when I was writing it. Looking back on it now, when I'm working on Chapter 40, I'm laughing at myself because I've done so many Klaus-scenes since this chapter. But still, I was nervous when I wrote this chapter, so...sorry if it's too short/OOC/whatever's wrong with it. XD
> 
> Feel free to drop me a review if you've got a second to spare, but if not, no worries. I love you guys anyway, reviews or no, and since I've already spilled the beans that I have multiple chapters just waiting to be posted, it's not like I can hold the story hostage for feedback. Which I wouldn't do anyway, because I'm not that mean. XD
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will be posted within the next couple days, hopefully, so stay tuned! :D


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe and Ezra finally meet Klaus!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small warning: Zoe gets really upset at one point during this chapter and drops an F-bomb; just wanted to let you guys know in case swearing/cursing is an issue for anyone.

" **Tough times don't last. Tough people do."**

* * *

My phone went off in the morning the next day, blaring a jarringly cheerful ring-tone out in the peaceful silence of the motel room.

I groaned and reached for my phone, nearly knocking over the bedside lamp as my fingers fumbled across the top of the little bedside dresser. I finally managed to grab my phone and flipped it open without checking caller ID. "Hello?" I mumbled groggily.

"Zoe?" Rebekah's voice came though the speaker. "Zoe, is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" I asked tiredly, rubbing my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eight. Are you still in bed?"

I sighed. "Not anymore," I said, sitting up.

"Oh." A few second of silence. "Well, sorry. But I really need your help with something."

I rolled out of bed, stood up, and stretched, flinching a little as my ribs reminded me that even with ten hours of sleep and some herbal assistance I still wasn't healed all the way. I'd planned to sleep the whole day away to get more of a head-start on my healing, but apparently that was not going to happen after all. "What's up?" I asked, going over to check on Ezra, who seemed to be sound asleep.

"Well," Rebekah said, "turns out Klaus gave Elijah to Marcel as a peace offering. He in turn has given Elijah to his little pet witch."

I paused mid-motion, taking a minute to run those words over in my minds again. "Wait, what? Pet witch? But I thought Marcel banned witchcraft?"

"All but hers, apparently. And she's wicked powerful, Zoe, she tossed me around the room like it was nothing.  _And_  erased my memory of her location."

My stomach knotted in dread. "Rebekah, that sort of power isn't possible. No single witch should be that strong."

"You think I don't know that?!"  
  
I jerked the phone away from my ear with a scowl. "No need to shout," I said sourly, going over to my duffel bag to retrieve a fresh change of clothes. "Did you tell your other brother about this latest development, or is he still stonewalling you?"

"No, he's on board now. He says he'll do whatever it takes to get Elijah back from Marcel and his witch."

"Well, that's good, right?" I went into the bathroom and peered at my reflection in the mirror, inspecting the fading bruises.

"Yes," Rebekah said testily, "but it's not good enough. We need your help, too, yours and Ezra's."

I straightened up from the mirror with a frown, not liking where this conversation was going. "What did you tell your brother about me and Ezra?" I asked warily.

A long pause that I  _definitely_  didn't like. "I mentioned your name last night," Rebekah admitted at last. "Nik asked me about you a little but he was more preoccupied with Hayley at the time, so I never really had to answer him."

"Okay," I said slowly, "so...what's changed? Why do you need me and my brother now that Klaus has agreed to help you rescue Elijah?"

"Because we're up against a witch," Rebekah replied. "It makes sense to have witches of our own, doesn't it?"

My entire body went ice cold. "What did you just say?"

"Zoe," Rebekah said, her voice very soft. "I overheard what Sophie said to you and Ezra the other day. About her detector spell, about knowing you were witches."

"My brother and I are not witches," I said sharply. "Stop it."

"Look, I understand if you're nervous because of the ban on magic-"

"Marcel's stupid ban has absolutely nothing to do with it," I snapped. "Just stop, okay? Let it go."

"Zoe-"

"Let. It. Go."

A long, long silence. "I'm sorry, Zoe," Rebekah said at last, her voice very soft. "But I can't. I need your help to save my brother."

I struggled to take several deep breaths, doing my best to stave off the panic attack I could feel hovering at the edges of my control. This stint in the Big Easy was not going at all according to plan, and things were slipping so badly out of control it wasn't even remotely funny. "Rebekah," I said hoarsely. "You don't understand."

"So tell me," she replied, her tone gentle yet still firm. "Tell  _us_ ," she added. "Nik and I will be by in a couple hours to pick you and your brother up. You can explain then."

"I am not explaining shit to you or your brother," I said, feeling more than little guilty about my harsh tone and words, but needing her to stop pushing at me for answers I didn't want to –  _couldn't_ – give. My wolf was still close to the surface as well, and that only made my temper worse, my self-control so frayed and threadbare that it was almost nonexistent."What my brother and I may or may not be is of no concern to the Mikaelson family, Rebekah, and I'm sorry if that fucking inconveniences your brother's grand plan for rescuing Elijah, but that's just how it is."

"You're saying you won't help us?" she asked, and now her voice is ice-cold steel.

"That isn't what I'm saying," I said through gritted teeth, horrifically aware of how things would go if an Original decided to consider me an enemy for not rendering assistance when asked. "All I'm saying," I went on carefully, "is that if you're looking for strong witches to help you, my brother and I are not who you need."

"...But you're all we have," Rebekah answered, her tone becoming plaintive. "Please, Zoe...I helped you save  _your_  brother, didn't I? Please...help me save mine."

Well, damn. She had me there, and no matter how I looked at it, that was definitely a debt that needed to be settled sooner rather than later. "...Come on by," I said with a resigned sigh. "Just give me a little while to brief my brother, okay?"  
  
"We'll be by in a couple hours," she repeated. "Klaus and I have some other things to deal with first, and then we'll come get you and your brother."

"We'll be here," I said, knowing I sounded unhappy about it and not particularly caring what Rebkeah might think about it.

"Thanks," was all she said in response, then hung up.

I stood there for a long moment, just holding my phone and staring at myself in the mirror. "Good job," I told my reflection sarcastically. "Way to play it safe, Zoe, well done." My reflection gave no answer, so I heaved another morose sigh and left the bathroom, bracing myself to wake up my brother and give him the news.

As it turned out, no waking was necessary, since he was standing about five feet from the bathroom door, dressed only in his jeans with his arms crossed and an angry scowl on his face.

"Oh," I said. "You're up."

He said nothing, just looked at me.

I gave a nervous half-smile. "I take it you, uh, heard the call, then." Werewolf hearing does have some sort-of perks, as far as eavesdropping goes. I didn't doubt that my brother had heard my entire conversation with Rebekah, but confirming it still seemed like a good idea, just in case.

"Yeah," was all he said.

Well. I wasn't sure what to do with an Ezra who looked so severe and stern. I made a beeline for the mini-fridge and rummaged around until I produced two cans of soda and a pack of string cheese. I held out the package towards my brother, putting on my best innocent-sister face. "Cheese?" I offered.

He just glowered at me some more, not saying a word.

Abruptly exasperated, I tossed the cheese back in the fridge and set the soda down onto the counter with more force than necessary. "What are you waiting for me to say?" I snapped angrily. "That I screwed up, getting us involved in the Originals' crap? Because I know that already. Or is it that I agreed to  _keep_  helping them? Because I'm not thrilled about it, either, but it's not like we have a lot of options."

Ezra took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking pained. "I just...don't know what to think," he said at last.

"About what?" I asked desperately, needing to understand where this quiet fury of his was coming from. "What is it that got you so mad at me?"

He surprised me by shaking his head. "It's not you," he said. "I know it seems like I'm pissed  _at_  you, Zoe, but I swear it's  _not_  you. It's just..." He sighed and waved a hand around vaguely. "How is it this shit always happens to  _us_? What did we do to deserve all this crap we deal with?" He shook his head again. "It's isn't fair," he bit out, eyes flashing angrily as his wolf surged. "It's not fair, and we don't deserve this."

I swallowed hard, not daring to say anything because I've had those sorts of thoughts for as long as I can remember, ever since everything had fallen apart and our lives had turned into a waking hell. I couldn't risk saying anything, because if I opened my mouth all that would pour out would be agreement, that none of this was fair and that we didn't deserve it and please-God-let-it-all-stop-so-I-can-close my-eyes-without-fear.

Needless to say, saying any of that would totally not be helpful right now, so bit my tongue and held my silence. After a moment, my brother seemed to collect himself, shoving down his despair.

"So," he said, "they're coming here?"

"Yeah," I said. "In a couple hours."

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles. "If it were anyone other the Originals, I would say we just cut and run, but that's not gonna fly this time, is it?"

I gave it some serious consideration, but in the end... "No," I said, "it's not. There's no running away this time."

He sighed. "Okay, well...what, then? What do we say? How much do we tell them?" He looked at me seriously. "How much is too much, Z? Can we trust them?"

I opened my mouth to say an automatic 'no', then hesitated. Because I  _wanted_  to say that yes, we could trust them. But I had no idea where that feeling came from, and I didn't trust it, because  _I don't trust people._  At least not in a good way. I trusted them to betray and back-stab and disappoint me, yes. I did  _not_  trust them to be dependable, loyal, or faithful. And I had yet to meet anyone anywhere who I would trust to not sell me or my brother up the river to our uncle at the first opportunity.

That I wanted to say that we could trust Rebekah and her brother troubled me more than a little, but I attributed it to the gratitude I was feeling towards Rebekah for helping me help my brother when I'd been desperate. Gratitude had a way of warping my perspective on certain things, trustworthiness evidently being one of them.

Nevertheless, I was going to tell them nothing more than I absolutely had to. Which would not be very much. Because, after all, they could threaten us until the cows came home, but in the end it wouldn't really matter. Even if they followed through on some terrible and awful threat...we couldn't be killed. My brother and I were immortal, and that wasn't going to change. It sounds stupid, but I almost forget that, sometimes. Yet it was the truth. Ezra and I couldn't be killed.

Bearing this in mind would be important, I figured. And would likely need to be mentioned to the Mikaelson siblings fairly early on. There would be questions, of course, about how Ezra and I had survived a fatal car wreck.

"We'll give them the basics," I decided. "Our bare bones version of the story, and let them draw their own conclusions from there."

"Are we mentioning the wolf aspect of things, or...?"

"No," I say firmly. "We won't tell them anything extra. Just the bit about a crazy evil uncle and needing to lay low. Everything beyond that is none of their business."

"Technically even that much isn't their business," Ezra pointed out, but nodded in agreement for the plan in general. "How long do we have before they arrive?"  
  
"Couple hours," I replied, leaning against the counter, suddenly exhausted. "I guess they had some other stuff to deal with first."

"If it'll be that long, we should rest before they get here," he said reasonably. "No point being dead on our feet for no reason."

"I'm too keyed up to rest," I muttered, but I yawned even as I grumbled, and my brother promptly steered me back towards my bed.  
  
"Zoe," he said, his tone one of brotherly amusement, "get some sleep. I will, too," he assured me, cutting me off before I could even finish opening my mouth to speak. "We  _both_  need to get some rest. We'll never heal otherwise," he added, and that shut me right up, because he was right.

If we were really going to join up with Rebekah and Klaus against Marcel and his crew, we'd need to be at our best. Currently we weren't even close. So I set my phone to wake me up in an hour and a half and buried my head under my pillow. It wasn't until I heard my brother lay back down and fall back asleep himself that I was able to fully relax and drift off myself, my dreams full of hectic scattered images of wolves and vampires and fire and darkness.

I woke up just before my alarm went off, feeling somewhat refreshed and rejuvenated, if not completely recovered. Ezra, I discovered, had already woken up, and was in the bathroom taking a shower.

"You okay in there?" I called out anxiously, acutely aware of the fact my brother had looked like death warmed over just a few hours previously.

"All good," he called back, voice half drowned out by the sounds of running water. "Relatively speaking, anyway," he added, his voice full of forced cheer.

I had no good answer to that so I just said "Okay" and set about tidying up our motel room so it didn't look like a total disaster zone. Mostly that involved dumping various articles of bloody clothing into a nearby plastic trashcan and scrubbing at the bloodstains on the wood floor with some extra strength Formula 409 and hoping that the maid service wouldn't feel inclined to swing by while me and my twin had Rebekah and her psychotic brother over visiting.

Given our run of rotten luck lately, I halfheartedly came up with a handful of contingency plans in the event of such a thing happening. It never hurts to be prepared, after all.

In any case, someone knocked on our door roughly twenty minutes later, the sound of it echoing through our room. My heart leapt and pounded in my chest as my anxiety nearly swallowed me whole, but somehow I managed to push the panic away, taking several deep breaths to calm myself. "Be right there," I called out, shooting a glance at the bathroom door, hoping my brother didn't take too long getting out of the shower. I knew it was cowardly, but I didn't want to face two Mikaelsons alone without my twin to back me up.

But there was no point delaying the inevitable, so I headed for the door, opening it with no small amount of trepidation. Standing on our little doorstep was, of course, Rebekah, dressed in designer clothes and looking like the immortal bombshell that she is. Standing somewhat apart from her was a young-looking man who was clearly her brother, Klaus. There was a resemblance between them, marking them clearly as siblings despite the fact that Klaus was supposedly only a half-brother. I think it was something to do with the way they carried themselves, more than their shared genetics; they both have a sort of guarded arrogance to the way they stand and look.

In any case, my stomach knotted with dread as I saw them both standing there, as it sunk in that yes, this really is happening. My voice wasn't as steady as I would have liked it to be when I said "Come in" but if they noticed this they didn't remark on it, just stepping across the threshold into the room. Ezra was coming out of the bathroom just as they were coming into the room, and Rebekah and her brother both paused as my brother very deliberately went into the little kitchenette and retrieved the sodas I'd abandoned earlier. "Drink?" he offered casually, acting as if hosting indestructible vampires was something he did all the time.

"No, thank you," Klaus said, giving a razor-edged smile. "I prefer...stronger drinks."

"You don't say," my brother remarked lightly, tossing me a soda. "Your loss."

I caught the can reflexively, narrowing my eyes at my brother. What the hell was he up to? I set my can of soda down on the nearest flat surface and stepped around the Mikaelsons to stand beside my brother, who was still wearing only jeans, his wet hair messy and dripping onto his bare skin. I couldn't help but notice how the vampires give him a thorough once-over, their gazes lingering on the jagged scar on his chest. I could see the questions in their eyes, but wisely neither vampire mentions it, instead speaking only of the topic at hand.

"My sister tells me you might be of some use to us in retrieving our brother Elijah," Klaus said, clearly lacking the hesitation that was plaguing me and even his sister, who seemed to be very intent on inspecting her manicure and was very carefully not meeting my eyes. Given that I was not sure how I felt about her all but forcing me into this meeting, that was probably best; there's no telling how I would have reacted, not with my wolf still so close to the surface.

"What exactly did she tell you?" Ezra asked, popping his soda open and taking a small sip, eyes never leaving Klaus; clearly he thought that Rebekah's brother was the larger threat in the room, and I felt inclined to share that assessment. There was something about Klaus that made me very uneasy, a sort of contained wildness lurking just under his skin that almost bordered on feral. My inner wolf could sense the wolf in him, too, and it made my skin itch. I somewhat worriedly wondered if he could sense the wolves in me and my brother, but by all accounts Klaus was not terribly in touch with his wolf side. In any case, he didn't seem to be assessing us in a wolf-to-wolf way, more of a potential-frenemy sort of way.

"Well," Klaus said, his voice casual and charismatic, "she mentioned overhearing Sophie Deveraux calling you out for being witches. Something about a sensor spell and whatnot. And about how the two of you denied all of it, but did so in a way that involved never actually  _admitting_  to anything"

"Maybe there's nothing to admit to," Ezra remarked neutrally, his expression politely dismissive.

Klaus gave a smile that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Oh, but there is. Isn't there?" he went on, turning to look at me rather than my brother. "My sister tells me you and your brother were in quite a spectacular car accident just yesterday. Would you like to explain how is it you not only walked away, but recovered so quickly?"

"We eat all our healthy vegetables and take lots of vitamins," Ezra said testily, shifting position ever so slightly, placing himself between me and Klaus.

The movement did not go unnoticed by Klaus, whose smirk only widened. "Really," he said, sounding amused.

"Really," Ezra said flatly.

The tension in the room was practically a tangible thing, making the air in the room heavy and suffocating. I was starting to feel boxed in, and my self-control, already on tenterhooks, was about to shatter into a million itty bitty pieces. Ezra, evidently seeing something in my face to signal my impending meltdown, put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and looked Klaus dead in the eye. "If you're looking for powerful witches to help you take down Marcel," he said clearly and calmly, "you've come to the wrong people."

Klaus looked at him very carefully, before glancing over his shoulder at Rebekah. "Yes, Rebekah mentioned that your sister had said much the same thing. But why is that, I wonder? Sophie identified you as witches. Witches do magic. So why is it you refuse? Is it simply that you're refusing to help us specifically?" he went on. "Because I shouldn't need to tell you what happens when someone turns down my offers."

"You haven't actually put an offer on the table," I felt obligated to point out, speaking for the first time since opening the door. I was surprised to find that my voice was steady and even. "So far all you've done is ask questions and not drink soda."

Klaus gave me a smile that was all teeth. "I prefer my drinks stronger," he repeated.

I decided I wasn't going to be intimidated, and gave a toothy smile right back. "Good strong drinks are hard to come by," I said sweetly. "You must go thirsty pretty often."

Rebekah gave a snort of laughter despite herself, and I slanted her a bemused look. "Sorry," she offered, giving me a sheepish smile.

I gave a dismissive wave. "No worries," I told her, although it was pretty much a blatant lie. I had plenty of worries, and baiting her psychotic brother would only add to them but I couldn't seem to help it. I looked back at Klaus. "So, are you going to get on with business, or not? I ain't getting any younger here."

He raised his eyebrows, looking faintly surprised by my forwardness, though that same arrogant smirk stayed in place, like it was superglued to his face or something. "How about this," he said. "The two of you help us get Elijah back, and we won't slaughter you where you stand." His tone of voice was pleasant and easy-going, as if it was the most reasonable offer in the world and we'd be silly not to take it.

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

Both Originals gave me genuinely baffled and startled looks as I doubled over, clutching my stomach with one hand as I tried to muffle my laughter with the other. Even Ezra gave me an are-you-kidding-me look, but I couldn't seem to put a lid on it. I chuckled a little longer, then managed to get a hold of myself. "Sorry," I said, though really I wasn't, "but that's just the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And I've heard some pretty stupid things."

Klaus arched an eyebrow, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Oh?" Just a single syllable, but loaded with menace.

Thankfully, I'd recovered my backbone somehow, and his intimidation games weren't going to make me back down. I put my hands on my hips, giving him an eyebrow arch of my own. "How exactly would you propose to kill us, then?"  
  
"I have a very creative imagination," the Original responded silkily. "I'm sure I could come up with something  _delightful_."

Well, didn't that just sound spectacularly creepy. "I hope your imagination has workarounds for immortality curses," I remarked lightly, my voice overly bright and chipper. "Because I hear those can be a bitch and a half when you're trying to kill someone."

A long moment of complete and total silence as that information sank in. Klaus exchanged an unreadable look with Rebekah, but she only gave a confused half-shrug and glanced over at me, biting her lip. Having run of out of things to say, I looked over to my brother, who looked torn between wanting to hug me and wanting to throttle me. In the end, he gave a little shake of his head, settled for mussing my hair and said, "Way to spill the beans, Zoe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, she told them. Don't worry though, it's all part of the plan. ;D It'll still be fun to see how Klaus and Rebekah react though, won't it? XD  
> Anyway, this delightful situation will be wrapped up in the next chapter. So, sorry about the sort of cliffhanger, but...well, these things happen. ;D  
> The next update should be within a few days, so be ready for that!  
> As always, I love to hear from you guys, so drop a review if you've got a second, but if you don't want to, no worries. :D  
> Also, thank you to Msladyres and avidreader28 for your comments on the last chapter; they made my day. :D  
> See you next time!


	19. Chapter 19

" **Never mistrust, unless given a reason. "**

* * *

I gave my brother a rueful smile. "I don't see why we should waste all this time dancing around the issue," I told him, feeling a need to justify my blurting out 'oh, hey, we're immortal, don't bother trying to kill us' to Rebekah Mikaelson and her crazy brother Klaus. "It's not like they wouldn't have figured it out on their own eventually anyway," I added with a shrug. "I mean, we  _did_ survive a deadly car crash." We'd also survived the assassins that had immediately followed said crash, but I wasn't going to bring  _that_  up unless I absolutely had to.

My brother just heaved a long-suffering sigh, looking amused and aggravated all at once. "You're impossible," he said.

"I am," I agreed, nodding.

We were, of course, putting on something on an act for the Mikaelson siblings. Not lying, of course, we  _were_  telling the truth. But we had developed over the years certain patterns and methods for telling others who and what we were. This was the Zoe-blurts-it-out method, obviously. It involved me putting the truth out there and seeing what the response would be. Naturally, we give only one piece of the whole story, and see how things proceed from there.

In this case, the piece of information given is our immortality. I watched Rebekah and Klaus carefully, trying gauge their reactions to this little nugget of information.

"Well," Rebekah said, speaking first and breaking the silence, "that explains how you made it through that car crash. Klaus and I stopped by the police station to sneak a peek at the official accident report," she added in explanation. "And the opinion of the officer who wrote it was that no one should have been able to just get out and walk off."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," I said noncommittally.

Ezra snorted. "Understatement of the month," he observed.

Klaus wasn't so easily distracted from the topic at hand, paying little attention to our easy-going back and forth chatter and instead cutting right to the heart of the matter. "I don't suppose you'd care to explain how it is the two of you came to  _be_  undying?" he asked, his tone of voice indicating quite clearly that evasive answers would not be appreciated. "Witches, after all, are supposed to be just as mortal as any other human."

I exchanged a look with my brother, weighing our options. But in the end, we had to tell them  _something_. "Supposed to be, yes," I agreed, deciding to be the spokesperson for this part of things, at least. Ezra could have easily explained, but his comfort zone in situations like this was more to do with watching and observing, letting me take the lead so that he would be better able to respond to a potential threat. "But our situation is a little bit...unique."

"Unique how?" Klaus inquired, eyes narrowing at me in suspicion.

"Our mother was a witch," I began, deciding to keep the story simple and straightforward, with as little detail as possible. "She had a falling out with her older brother after she married a guy he didn't approve of. Our uncle...well, he's really not very mentally stable and decided to come after our family and make an example of us, for what happens when someone goes against family expectations. He killed our parents and cursed us to live forever."

"How terribly tragic," Klaus said, his tone just short of being outright mocking. "But why would he bother making you immortal if what he wanted was to punish your family? Surely killing you would serve his purpose well enough. Why draw things out?"

"Because he's a psychotic asshole," Ezra replied, evidently done with keeping quiet. "He intends to capture us and torture us for the rest of eternity. A fun-filled family reunion," he drawled sarcastically.

"Which is why we don't advertise our magical heritage," I added more seriously. "If he hears that we're here he'll stop at nothing to catch us."

"So you don't want to help us against Marcel because you're worried your uncle might find you?" Rebekah surmised.

"It's not that we  _won't_  help you," I said, taking care to word my reply very carefully. "But we  _can't_  help you using our  _magic_. Marcel's pet witch aside, our uncle would know if we used any sort of significant magic and be able to locate us accordingly."

"That doesn't mean we can't help you in  _other_  ways," Ezra continued, picking up where I'd left off. "There's plenty we can do to help you retrieve your brother without using our magic. And before you guys get all up in arms over our refusal to help with witchery," he added, "I'd like to point out that we are very out of practice with our magic and would not be of much use in that regard anyway."

A quiet moment as the vampires digested what we'd told them.

"I still think we could use their help," Rebekah said to her brother eventually. "I wouldn't have been able to protect Hayley without Zoe last night," she pointed out when her brother made a face at her words. "At the very least it would help to have more capable fighters on our side, wouldn't it? Marcel has a whole little army of his own, after all."

"Mm," was all Klaus said in response, still just looking at me and my brother in that threat-assesment sort of way. No, I realized suddenly, it wasn't a threat assessment, not exactly. It was more of a how-can-I-turn-this-to-my-advantage sort of thing. If nothing else, Niklaus Mikaelson was clearly not someone to jump into a situation without having some sort of plan, even just a basic one. I found myself not really liking the idea of working together with a clever psychopath. Not that there was much of a choice in the matter, really; it's not like they'd just let us go on our way. It was too late for that.

"Look," I said, crossing my arms and giving Klaus my best no-nonsense look. "You need help getting Elijah back, right? We can help you do that, but on our terms. Understand?"

Klaus gave that infuriating smirk again, the one that made me want to go for my dagger. "Very well. We'll be...a team," he said, giving an exceptionally bright smile that was very obviously false. "Although," he went on more seriously, "I won't allow your personal issues to impact my own goals. Any problems involving your uncle are your own to deal with; I want nothing to do with any of it."

"Fair enough," I agreed, though I was tempted to point out that me and brother were getting dragged into his own personal drama and turnabout was fair play. But I'd probably pushed my luck enough for one day, so I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I turned to my brother. "Anything to add?" I asked him.

Ezra shook his head. "Not really," he replied easily, setting his can of soda down on the counter and snagging a towel from the back of a nearby chair to begin drying his hair with. "Just wondering what exactly the plan is for getting Elijah back from an impossibly powerful teenage witch without us getting flattened in the process."

I muffled a snort of laughter at his casual tone of voice, as if discussing jail-breaking an Original was an everyday occurrence and didn't warrant much excitement. "I think we need more information first on who this witch might be," I said, looking over to the vampires. "We might have a better idea of her capabilities if we know who she is."

"Marcel called her Davina," Rebekah provided. "Beyond that, I don't know much about her. She was just a child, only fifteen or sixteen, I think."

"I can make some calls," Ezra offered. "See if any of my contacts know anything."

I nodded. My brother had a fairly wide range of contacts from our time spent hopscotching across the continent. None were in New Orleans as far as I knew, but information has a way of spreading far and wide, particularly in the supernatural world. If there was information about a too-powerful child witch out there, my brother could find it. "Okay. Anything else we can do right now? Besides gather information?"

"You can move out of this godawful motel room," Rebekah said, giving the room a disgusted look. "Honestly," she went on, "it smells terrible in here and there's no heating or air conditioning. Or anything resembling any sort of civilized habitation environment."

I snickered a little at hearing a phrase like 'civilized habitation environment' come out of the mouth of an Original vampire. "It's not so bad," I felt obligated to say in response.

"We've stayed in worse," my brother added, his tone so sincere it was impossible not to believe him.

Rebekah's face scrunched up as she looked at us. "Well," she said, "that won't do at all." She turned to her brother. "They're coming to stay with us."

Ezra made a choking sound that he hastily turned into a cough, shooting me a what-the-hell look.

I made a flailing motion and opened my mouth to object. "That's really not necessary-"

"But of course it is," Rebekah said, cutting me off completely. "So gather up your things and let's get going."

I whirled on Klaus, since if anyone would be on our side in this, it would be him. But he just gave that little smirk again, clearly seeing and enjoying our obvious discomfort. "I for one will feel better about knowing where the two of you are," he said, voice silky smooth. "It'll make keeping you in line so much easier."

I bit my tongue to hold in a caustic remark about how badly trying to 'keep us in line' would go for him if he dared to try it. Instead I took a deep breath and turned back to his sister. "Rebekah," I said, trying to sound reasonable, "you can't just have us pack up and move in with you."

"Why not?" she asked, looking genuinely confused about there being a problem. "It makes sense for all of us to stay together," she added. "It'll make consolidating information easier, not to mention making plans."  
  
I tried to find some sort of hole in her simple logic but couldn't. Frustrated with how this was all spiraling out of control, I threw my hands up in defeat and stormed over to my bed to stuff my things back into my duffel bag. "Vampires," I sad angrily, in a tone that was not at all complimentary. "You guys are all so..." I made another angry flailing motion with my hands, unable to find a word that really conveyed what I wanted to say.

Rebekah didn't look particularly troubled by my fury and flounced over to help me pack, pausing occasionally to make some remark about different articles of my clothing and offering to take me out shopping sometime for more 'becoming' outfits. Ezra, in the meantime, finished toweling his hair dry and finished getting dressed, keeping a careful watch on Klaus the entire time as the Original hybrid leaned against the wall by the door and watched us all with keen eyes. My brother, for all his easy-going outward behavior, clearly did not trust the Originals any more than they trusted us. Which wasn't terribly surprising, really; like me, my twin is not a very trusting person.

In any case, once we finished getting our things together, Rebekah ushered us all out of the room and set about piling our things into the car they'd driven over, an ordinary looking dark gray sedan.

"No red race car today?" Ezra asked Rebekah, looking amused.

"'Fraid not," she replied breezily. "Your sister bled all over the upholstery and I needed to take it in."

I felt a slight pang of guilt and opened my mouth to apologize, but Rebekah gave me a light nudge in the ribs. "I'm teasing you," she informed me with an impish smile. "Relax."

Not used to being teased by anyone other than my brother, I snapped my mouth shut and just nodded, not sure what to say. This whole morning was so far completely outside of my comfort zone, I was feeling really out of sorts as a result. Needing a few seconds to settle myself, I volunteered to go turn in our room key to the motel clerk while the others finished loading up.

It was supposed to be a simple thing. Go to the office, go inside, give the clerk the key, and thank them for a good stay. Instead, true to my rotten luck, I opened the door and was promptly greeted by a gruesome headless corpse seated behind the desk.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, twenty chapters! This is so exciting! Thank you to all you wonderful readers for supporting me through everything that's happened since the start of this story. I can't believe how far we've come! Yay!

_" **Your only obligation in any lifetime** **is to be true to yourself. "**_

* * *

I don't know what it says about me that my first thought when confronted with a headless body in the motel office was 'now how am I supposed to check out?'. Of course, my second thought was the more normal 'holy shit, what the hell happened here?!', but still.

I spent a good couple minutes just staring at the body, unable to comprehend that this was really happening. I mean, logically, I knew that this was real. But I just couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that my life was so screwed up that I couldn't even check out of a motel without serious incident.

"Ezra!" I shouted, my voice coming out sounding a little more alarmed than I would have liked given our Original companions. Having a meltdown over a dead body would more than likely not impress them. Not that I was  _having_  a meltdown, mind you, but that certainly could have been the impression they got of me if I wasn't careful.

So I took a deep breath, schooled my features into an expression of casual disinterest and waited for my brother to join me. He did so a few seconds later, coming in the door without bothering to knock, shadowed closely by Rebekah and her brother Klaus.

His quick steps ground to a halt as he saw the body, and he took a moment to impress us all with a wide range of creative curse words. "Why do things like this keep happening?" he complained at last, once he was done cursing up a storm.

"Maybe it's a coincidence?" I offered hopefully, though I really didn't even remotely believe that.

My brother, similarly, let out a disbelieving snort and gave me a look that said I shouldn't even bother considering that as an explanation.

"Yeah," I said in agreement to his silent skepticism, "I don't really think so, either." Which left the question of who had killed this clerk and why.

"I can't help but notice," Ezra remarked a little too casually as he turned to look at Klaus and Rebekah, "that this untimely death happens to coincide with your visit here."

"Oh, please," Rebekah said dismissively. "Why would we bother to kill some random desk clerk? What reason could be possibly have for doing something like that?"

"You're an Original vampire," Ezra replied. "I wasn't aware you made a habit of having actual reasons for killing people."

I sucked in a sharp breath; accusing them of wanton murder was hardly a good way to start of an alliance. "Ezra," I said warningly.

He gave me a look. "Come on, Zoe, let's be real. They suddenly swing on by for a visit, and the clerk is murdered around the same time? What're the odds of that, seriously?"

"Not good," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean they're the ones responsible. Besides," I added, "look at the body." I took a step closer for a more intense inspection myself. "It's not a fresh kill, or even within the last few hours." I gestured to the clotting on the jagged wounds, and the discoloration of the skin. Not to mention the smell. "My guess is that someone killed him either late last night or early this morning."

"But shouldn't someone have noticed something?" Rebekah observed. "I mean, there are other people staying at this motel, aren't there?"

I frowned. "I guess so? There was at least one more car other than ours and the clerk's when we first checked in, but I actually don't recall seeing it yesterday; they might have checked out already."  
  
"Leaving us as the only occupants right now," Ezra concluded, then scowled. "I don't like that," he said. "It makes us the only suspects."

"Not necessarily," I replied. "It looks suspicious, sure, but if the police do investigate...well, obviously we didn't do it, so they can't possibly charge us."

"But that doesn't change the fact that this occurred while you were here," Klaus observed, speaking up for the first time since he'd entered the office with his sister. "Whether they're trying to set you up or not, clearly you were meant to discover the body."

I frowned at him in annoyance, because there was no way to argue that. "I guess so," I said reluctantly, not really wanting to acknowledge the clear truth in his deduction.

"Who would do this to you?" Rebekah asked, looking worried. "Who would do something like this just to get your attention?"

"Maybe it's not to get our attention," Ezra remarked. "Maybe it's just to shake us up. Put us off-balance."  
  
"Could it be your uncle?" Rebekah asked. "Is it possible he's already found you?"

I thought of the Shadow Coven assassins who'd attacked us and made a face. "It's possible," I admitted unhappily. More than possible, even; if two of his hired guns were suddenly taken out of the picture, it would make sense for him to go 'oh, hey, that must be where my long lost niece and nephew are, let's go cause them more trouble'. And it certainly wouldn't be out of character for him to kill an innocent bystander just to make a point.

"Well, then," Klaus said, brushing his hands together to remove invisible specks of dust, "in that case I say we get going and not trouble ourselves overmuch." I opened my mouth to object, but the Original hybrid kept talking without pause. "We have an agreement, if you'll recall," he said pointedly. "Anything to do with your uncle is of no concern of ours. Therefore, this situation," he waved a hand dismissively at the headless body, "is of no relevance to our current goals. So we're going to proceed according to plan, and relocate the two of you to our current place of residence without further delay."

I exchanged a look with my brother, who simply shrugged in a what-can-you-do sort of way and headed for the door without further argument.

I chewed on my lip, frustrated by my inability to deal with this in any sort of productive way. There was nothing I could do to help the man who'd been killed, and nothing I could do to discover who'd done this and why. There was nothing I could do except leave and not look back.

No, I decided, there was something I could do, just a simple thing. I hung up our room key with the others on the little rack on the wall, then used the edge of my shirt to pick up the phone on the desk and dial 911.

"What is your emergency?" asked the operator on the other end. Knowing that they would trace the call and send out a patrol car as a matter of routine, I said nothing, simply set the receiver down on the desk so that the line would stay open until someone arrived. Then I turned and walked out of the office, sliding into the back seat of Rebekah's new car with a heavy heart.

The drive to the Mikaelsons' current home was done in silence, the air thick and tight with tension. When we arrived, I couldn't help but oggle at the massive mansion-sized plantation house. "Wow," was all I managed to say.

Ezra didn't look as impressed, but there was a sort of grudging appreciation in his voice as he said "Nice place."

Klaus and Rebekah just sort of shrugged and headed for the front door, leaving us to get our bags and follow after them.

"Arrogant jerks," my brother muttered, hefting my duffel out of the car and passing it over to me.

"Be nice," I chided. "They could have tried to kill us, like everyone else."

"I'm sure they'll get around to it eventually," he remarked in a low voice. "Probably when we're done being useful."

Not willing to contemplate the likelihood of such an occurrence, I opted to remain silent and heave my bags up the front stairs and into the front hall.

"Let me show you to your rooms," Rebekah said as we came in, her brother having evidently disappeared off to somewhere else in the manor, perhaps to check on Hayley, who was presumably also staying here. "Follow me."

My brother and I trailed after her obediently, offering the usual vocalizations of appreciation when she showed us something impressive about their house. Eventually, we reached the rooms where we'd be staying. "Zoe, you're in this one," Rebekah said, rapping on the door in question. "Ezra, that one's yours," she added, pointing to the one across the hall. "I figured you'd want to stay close to each other, all things considered."

I was touched by this unexpected bit of thoughtfulness. "Thank you," I said sincerely. "We appreciate it."  
  
Rebekah smiled. "It's no trouble. Not like we don't have enough rooms, after all. Anyway," she went on, "I'll leave you guys to get settled, and we'll sit down for a little family meeting later." With that, she left, going back downstairs to do whatever it was Rebekah Mikaelson did with her free time.

I stood there in the hall with my brother for a moment, then rubbed the back of my neck tiredly. "How the hell did this happen," I said flatly.

He gave an exhausted smile. "We've certainly got a unique brand of luck, that's for sure."  
  
"When I agreed to help Rebekah find her brother I did not anticipate having to live with them," I groused, casting an unhappy look around at the opulent hallway we were standing in. "Seriously."

He shrugged. "Well, it can't be helped now. Might as well just go with it, at least for the moment." He yawned unexpectedly and shook his head. "Look, I need more sleep than what I got last night. Let's unpack and relax for a bit, okay? I'm sure they'll come get us if anything happens."

I nodded, knowing that my brother was still healing from the injuries he'd sustained in the car crash and needed as much rest as he could get. "You go sleep," I agreed. "I'll see you later."

He nodded, and went into his new room. I, likewise, opened the door to my new living quarters and stepped inside.

I was rewarded with a room of such magnificence, I had to take a moment and put my head between my legs and just breathe. The floor, a gorgeous gleaming hardwood itself, had a lovely rug laid out, the coloring of it complementing the pale lavender of the walls and the rich deep color of the elegant wooden furniture. The furniture itself was clearly very well-made and very expensive. The wardrobe, the vanity and attached dresser, the four-poster bed covered in luxurious comforters and pillows, the little bedside dresser, the little settee...it was all part of a set that was obviously worth more money than I would ever be likely to see, even in my extended lifespan. Throw in the deluxe antique lamps, the lush drapes framing the windows, and the crystal vases of decorative flowers, and I felt totally and completely out of place.

That being said, I was also abruptly exhausted, and that bed looked extremely comfortable. So I set my bag down by the door, hung my jacket on the back of a chair that looked like it was worth more than I was, and sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, feeling like I was too plebeian to even be breathing the air in this room. I started to relax despite myself, though, so I took off my boots and laid back on the bed, reveling in how soft and plush the pillows and blankets were. I drifted asleep without really noticing it, and didn't wake up until a few hours later, when I heard voices echoing up from downstairs.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I slipped my boots back on and went downstairs. I found my brother leaning against the wall, watching as Rebekah and Klaus had some sort of low-key sibling spat.

"I cannot believe you disposed of those vampires without me," Rebekah said, giving a pout. "You know how I love to set things on fire!"

Klaus gave a taunting smirk. "Was I supposed to leave them in the front yard to rot? Besides," he added, "they were my responsibility. They attacked the helpless pregnant girl who's carrying my child!"

Rebekah snorted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, I am  _so_  moved by your new-found sense of fatherly duties towards the werewolf carrying your hybrid bun in her oven."

"The werewolf would like to know what the plan is," a new voice called out, and I turned to see Hayley coming down the stairs, a small book cradled in her hands, like she'd been reading upstairs and had come down when she'd heard the Originals talking.

"Well," Klaus said lightly, "that depends what plan you mean, love- my plan for global domination, or Rebekah's plan to find love in a cruel, cruel world?"

Rebekah snatched up a pencil from the desk she was standing beside and flung it at her brother. He snatched it out of the air easily and gave her a look.

"The plan to rescue  _Elijah_ ," Hayley pressed on, clearly either used to the Mikaelson siblings' behavior or simply not caring. "You know, the good brother? The one who is now in the possession of your mortal enemy after you  _stabbed him in the back_?"  
  
"In the front, if we're being specific," Klaus remarked, giving that infuriating smirk again.

"You two said that you would get him back," Hayley went on. " You even went and got Zoe and Ezra and pulled them into this mess, too. So is there a plan, or what?"

"My thoughts exactly," Ezra remarked. "What precisely are we planning to do?"

We all watched Klaus very carefully, waiting for his answer. In the end, he didn't disappoint.

"Okay. Well, firstly," the hybrid said, "Marcel is not my mortal enemy- he's my  _friend_. Albeit one who is unaware that I'm trying to sabotage his hold over the supernatural community of the French Quarter," he added lightly, "but a friend nonetheless. And secondly," he went on, "I daggered Elijah in order to gain Marcel's trust. If I had known he would place my brother in the hands of a particularly nasty teenage witch, I certainly would have weighed my options a bit differently. And thirdly," he turned to Rebekah and gestured for her to continue, "Sister, please."

"Thirdly," Rebekah said, pitching in without complaint, "the plan, as you have demanded, is for Niklaus to simply ask Marcel for Elijah back."

We all stared at the two siblings in shock, not quite sure what to make of this.

"Uh..." was all I managed to say, while Hayley was somewhat more to the point.

"That's... that's not the whole plan, is it?" she asked, looking extremely uncertain.

"Please!" Rebekah scoffed. "Klaus may be a miserable excuse for a sibling, but there is none more diabolical."

Klaus gave a small smile. "Thank you," he said, looking pleased.

"That's not quite a compliment," I felt obligated to point out, and was rewarded with a very frosty glare that made me cross my arms defensively. "What?" I snapped. "It's not. Besides, as far as plans go, that one sucks."  
  
"She has a point," Hayley agreed.

"That's only the Plan A, love!" Klaus assured her. "There's  _always_  a Plan B."

"And what's Plan B?" Ezra asked, looking like he already knew the answer and wasn't going to like it hearing it.

Klaus gave a brilliant smile that was no less unsettling for all that it was clearly genuine. "War."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the twentieth chapter! Yay! Did you guys enjoy it? How was it? As I'm sure you're aware, we've got bits of the third TV episode mixed in. XD It's odd to think that we're twenty chapters in and only part of the way through episode 3 timeline-wise. But that's how it goes sometimes, right? XD Anyway, next time we'll have the rest of episode 3, including that delightful masquerade party! Yay!
> 
> Also, if anyone's interested, I'm posting a picture of what I envisioned Zoe's room looking like on my tumblr; the web address for the post is http://yuzukimist.tumblr.com/post/133224895480. If you're curious to see what inspired my description of Zoe's room, go check it out. :) I'll also be posting the picture here on AO3 as part of the Inevitable: Screenshots series, so you can check it out here, too. But tumblr's more fun, yes? XD


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to update significantly ahead of schedule because I probably won't have a chance to update again until way later in the week because I work in grocery retail and this week is one of our busiest on account of Thanksgiving. So while normally I'd update on Thursday or Friday...well, that won't work this week, because I'll be working on both days, and I'll be so exhausted by Saturday that I will very likely not get out of bed. So. Congratulations, we have an update four/five days earlier than expected! :D Enjoy!

" **She said** **that** **we were doomed to be** **star-crossed lovers, destined to wonder what might have been."**

* * *

I walked alongside Rebekah as she dialed Klaus's number. She'd more or less dragged me out on a sudden shopping spree, supposedly to cheer me up about being shanghaied into helping her and Klaus set up some sort of diabolical plan to rescue their older brother. In reality, we were more or less just killing time. My brother was back at the Mikaelson mansion with Hayley, guarding her and keeping her company while the rest of us floated around town waiting for the right time to make a move.

Klaus had evidently decided to answer his phone after all, because the first words out of Rebekah's mouth were "Niklaus, for the love of Mary Magdalene, how long does it take to ask a simple question?"

Thanks to my wolf hearing, I was able to make out his side of the conversation as well, for which I was grateful. Rebekah didn't seem surprised by this and also didn't seem to mind me overhearing, and actually moved closer to me so that we could both hear clearly.

"Much longer than you'd think," was her brother's response, "considering the answer was, as expected, no. Marcel's man, Thierry, is suspicious. He thinks you killed thirteen nightwalkers."

"Well, that's a lie!" Rebekah said, her voice full of mock outrage. "I only killed  _eight_. Zoe killed the other five," she added , flashing me an impish smile.

"Gee," I said dryly, "thanks for that."

"You're welcome," she said lightly, then frowned. "Should we make Thierry the fourteenth?" she asked seriously, directing the question both to me and her brother.

"Absolutely not," was his immediate response. "Marcel is playing friendly. We can't kill the favorite son, or he'll catch onto us."

Rebekah and I both grumbled a little at that. "So, war it is, then?" Rebekah said with a slight sigh.

"Indeed," Klaus replied. "Do you know what to do with the witch? "  
  
Rebekah and I exchanged grim smiles. "I believe we do," I said.

"Good," he said. "You two manage Sophie Deveraux. I'll take care of the next step." With that, he hung up and returned to whatever part of the plan he was working on at the moment; he hadn't told us exactly what his first part of it would be, but I suspected I was better off not knowing the details.

In any case, with the go-ahead from Klaus we abandoned our little shopping spree and moved on to our real portion of the plan. Rebekah texted Sophie the details for a meet-up, and we headed over to the spot in question. We ended up having to wait for over an hour, which Rebekah clearly wasn't pleased about. I wasn't thrilled, either, to be honest, but I did my best to not glare at Sophie as she approached.

Rebekah wasn't as nice. "Oh, so glad you could make it," she said sarcastically. "Elijah only lies daggered and rotting whilst you dilly-dally."  
  
"You're lucky I came at all," the witch snapped. "What do you want?"

"Hayley was attacked last night by Marcel's crew," I informed her, giving her a look that made it clear how we felt about this. "This only could have happened because  _somebody_  told him there was a werewolf in the Quarter."

"She only made one stop," Rebekah added, nodding to the shop we were standing in front of, Jardin Gris. "Whoever saw her here ratted her out." She headed for the front door. "Watch and learn."

Sophie trailed after Rebekah obediently, and I pulled up the rear, just in case the witch decided to do something stupid like bolt for freedom.

The witch who ran the shop, a woman named Katie, came out of the backroom carrying a box and smiled when she saw Sophie. "Hey, Soph."

Sophie gave a strained smile back. "Hey, Katie."

Katie seemed to see the additional company for the first time, taking notice of Rebekah, who was looking over a necklace hanging on display. "That's filled with marigold," Katie told her cheerfully, "great for attracting the opposite sex. It would look awesome on you!"

Rebekah gave the necklace a disdainful look before turning to face Katie. "I very seriously doubt that. Do you have any others, one with, say, I don't know... wolfsbane, perhaps?" She gave a charming smile that was a little too razor-edged to be truly friendly.

My inner wolf squirmed a little bit at even just the mention of wolfsbane, but I shook it off.

Katie, meanwhile, had on an expression of confusion. "Wolfsbane?" she repeated. "Why would you want that?"

That was evidently the wrong answer. Rebekah was on Katie with her vamp-speed before the other girl even knew what was happening. One second she was standing there looking baffled, the next she was being lifted into the air in a choke hold by an aggravated Original.

"Please do  _not_  play dumb with me," Rebekah said dangerously, then slammed Katie down across a table.  
  
"Rebekah!" Sophie shouted, looking horrified. She moved to intervene, but I quickly stepped in front of her, blocking her path.  
  
"Don't," I said severely.

She looked as if she might argue, but whatever she saw in my face clearly made her reconsider, because she just swallowed hard and took a step back.  
  
"I just sold a werewolf some herbs," Katie gasped out. "That's all."  
  
"Are you lying to me, Katie?" Rebekah asked silkily. "I suggest you answer my question honestly."

Katie struggled futilely, coughing and sputtering. "Sophie..."  
  
Sophie shifted uncomfortably, clearly uneasy with how this interrogation was going. "Just...answer the question, Katie. Please."  
  
Katie swallowed convulsively, eyes darting around fearfully. "Yes," she said at last, giving a regretful sigh. "I told someone. But you don't understand," she added hastily, almost desperately. "I—I love him."

Rebekah seemed to consider that for a moment, then tossed Katie down onto the floor. Katie made a move as if to sit up, but then Rebekah brought her leg over, her stiletto heel pressing into Katie's throat in a clear threat. "And tell me, who is this vampire Romeo of yours?" she asked, her voice pleasant. "Shall I count to three?"

We left the shop a few moments later, all our questions answered. Rebekah dialed her brother once we were a few blocks away.

"Well?" he said.  
  
"You were right about the traitor," she informed him. "Luckily, she's just a kid and she doesn't know anything about us and what we're up to. Do you want to hear the part that's gonna please you the most?" she added slyly, clearly pleased with what we'd learned.  
  
"Oh, do tell!" he said, tone full of anticipation.

Rebekah gave me a look, so I took the leap and provided the answer, leaning closer to the phone to make sure he heard me. "She's in love with someone in Marcel's inner circle," I told him. "Guess who it is?"  
  
"Right-hand-man type, favors silly caps?" he guessed, sounding enormously satisfied with this information.

"Two points for you," Rebekah replied. "Thierry is fraternizing with the enemy."  
  
"Well," Klaus said cheerfully, "that means he just unwittingly became the key to our entire plan."  
  
I snorted. "Lucky him."

Rebekah smiled. "I told you you'd be pleased," she told her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And so it begins. This chapter was a little shorter, because it's pretty much just the set-up leading to the party and all the drama that goes down during/after that. Next time, we'll be proceeding with the next stage of Klaus's plan, including going to the masquerade party. Because putting wolves, witches, and vampires together at a wild party with alcohol is clearly a good idea. ;D Anyway, if you have a second, drop me a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter; I know there's not much to talk about since not a lot happened, but still. XD How is Zoe doing so far? Are the Originals acting in character? It's tricky writing them sometimes, so I'm curious to see if they're coming across as too OOC or anything; I don't feel like they are, but as the writer I clearly lack perspective on these things. XD So, any feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)
> 
> The next update should be...in a few days, I guess? I'm hoping I'll be able to post this upcoming Saturday, but I'll almost definitely be totally wiped from work, so we'll see. XD The wait between chapters won't be more than a week, I can promise that much. I have like another twenty chapters ready to post for this story, so it's really just a matter of proofreading and uploading, so I should definitely be able to squeeze in an update on time. :)
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and see you next time!


	22. Chapter 22

" _ **Success necessitates sacrifice**_ **."**

* * *

The plan itself was straightforward enough, all things considered. It was actually fairly simple.

What was  _not_  simple was convincing Sophie Deveraux to play along.

We'd all reconvened back at the Mikaelson residence, meeting up in the study to discuss the next stage of their plan. Sophie was, true to form, being extremely difficult to handle.

"Are you out of your mind?" she demanded when we told her what we needed her to do for us. "No way."

"It's very simple," Rebekah said patiently. "We need you to perform a teeny, tiny locator spell to help us find our brother."

Sophie shook her head. "No way," she repeated. "Witches who practice magic in this town get caught, and then they get  _killed_."

"Yes, about that," Klaus said, interjecting himself smoothly into the conversation. "It seems you left out a crucial detail when we made our deal. Marcel's secret weapon, the way he knows when a witch is using magic..."

"Girl about yea high," Rebekah provided, indicating said height with her hand, "cute as a button, anger issues?"

Sophie's face blanched white as she realized who they meant. "Davina?" she asked, shocked. "You've seen her? Where?"

"I don't know," Rebekah replied sullenly. "The little brat erased my memory right after she threw me out a window with her bloody  _mind_."

"I don't suppose you'd like to explain how that's even possible," I said to Sophie. "Because so far I'm coming up empty."

She just shook her head, eyes dark and face pale.

"Let me cut to the chase," Klaus said. "Davina has Elijah. You witches, I assume, want to get Davina away from Marcel. We don't know where she is; all our reconnaissance efforts have thus far proved futile. Ergo, we need magic."

"Davina would sense it," Sophie objected.

"Ah, but there's a way to stop that," Klaus replied. "Well, not  _stop_  exactly, but after consulting with our own experts," he passed a sly glance to me and my brother,"we've come up with a solution."

"A solution?" Sophie echoed, looking back and forth between us, the confusion clear on her face.

"Yep," Ezra said. "A solution." He waved at me to explain. "Zoe?"

"Davina  _would_  be able to sense your magic," I acknowledged. "Unless, of course, another witch— say, a traitor to the cause, Katie for example— was to perform much more powerful magic at the same time."

"That would create a smokescreen," Rebekah finished, "concealing your very  _small_  spell from Davina."

"Given the differing energy levels of the spells," Ezra concluded, "she'll never even know you were doing a spell at all, provided we time things right."

"But they'll know that Katie did magic," Sophie protested. "And Marcel will punish her. He'll  _kill_  her." She shook her head vehemently. "Katie doesn't deserve to  _die_!"

Klaus slammed him hands down on the table angrily and stood up, expression furious. "Sophie Deveraux!" he snapped. "You're in  _no_  position to be so principled. You can't win a war without a few strategic losses, no matter how regrettable they may be. How many times have the vampires been one step ahead, known something they shouldn't? Your sister," he went on, "executed in the public square for practicing magic- who knew she'd be caught? Did she even  _attempt_  to flee?"

Sophie swallowed hard. "She was caught hiding in a cargo hold of a freighter before it set sail down the Mississippi." A single tear slid down her cheek.

Klaus pressed on. "And  _who_ , pray tell- of Marcel's valued inner circle- manages his business at the docks?"  
  
Sophie took a deep breath, realization crossing her face. "Katie's boyfriend, Thierry."

* * *

Several hours later, I was standing in front of a massive mirror, scowling at my reflection.

"You'll never get asked to dance wearing a face like that," Rebekah informed, emerging from the bathroom with her hair curled up into an elegant twist.

I eyed my reflection doubtfully. "This really isn't my sort of thing, Rebekah," I said with hesitation. "I mean, thanks for helping me get ready and everything, but I really just don't think that-"

"Enough of that," she said sternly, taking me by the shoulders and straightening out my posture. "We're going to a party, and you look beautiful. So for the love of God, Zoe,  _smile_."

I did my best, but it was a lackluster effort. Rebekah, unsurprisingly, was not impressed by the grimace I was trying to pas off as a smile. "Sorry," I offered apologetically. "But dresses aren't really my thing."

That being said, the dress  _was_  gorgeous. It was a red strapless dress, with the skirt portion made up of black and red material that rippled out in dramatic fringes. It was exactly what I would have thought of if someone had asked me 'what's a masquerade dress look like?'. Rebekah had picked it out especially for me, apparently, and had seemed quite proud to inform me that it was worth almost six hundred dollars. That information had, of course, made me even more reluctant to actually wear the thing, and only a lot of persuasion on Rebekah's part and some blackmailing from my brother had convinced me to finally do so.

Eventually, it was time to go to the party. I followed Rebekah downstairs and soon we were in our car, driving towards the party. I was surprised, however, when we stopped by Rousseau's instead of heading straight to Marcel's.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, confused.

"Picking up the third member of our lovely trio," Rebekah informed me with a wink.

I opened my mouth to ask who she meant, but then a bartender I'd seen around town a few times came out of the bar, looking drop-dead gorgeous in her lovely white angel gown. "Oh," I said instead. " I see." And I did. Word had it that Marcel was more than a little enamored with Camille. Bringing her along would be the perfect distraction. I couldn't help but have some misgivings about her presence, though; it didn't seem fair to use a clearly innocent woman in our plans to overthrow Marcel, especially if the vampire really did care about her.

In any case, we arrived at the gala, dropped Camille off at the entrance so she could explore a bit on her own, then went to park the car. Then we met up with Klaus and Ezra, who'd left the house earlier with the promise to meet up with us here. Klaus was wearing a black suit with a black dress shirt and tie, his outfit matching Rebekah's black peplum cocktail dress. Ezra, similarly, was dressed in a black suit with a red dress shirt to match me; he'd opted out of wearing a tie on the grounds that they made him feel like he was being strangled. Rebekah linked her arm through Klaus's and I did the same with Ezra, and together the four of us swept inside.

"Well," Klaus said, looking around at everything going on, from the acrobats twisting through the air to the exotic animals to the sparkling confetti falling from above, "this certainly is a fitting backdrop for tonight's events, I must say." Then he noticed Camille and his smile faltered. "What's she doing here?"

I frowned, not sure what to make of his reaction. Was that worry in his tone?

Rebekah didn't seem to notice anything strange in her brother's behavior, because she simply gave a light shrug. "What better way to distract Marcel than to put his  _very_  human new girl in a room chock full of vampires?" She smiled brightly and crossed the room to go rejoin Camille.

Klaus, looking deeply unhappy with Rebekah's little twist, followed after her with a sigh, leaving me to and my brother to stare after them in puzzled curiosity.

"That was...different," Ezra said at last.

"Uh-huh." I bit my lip. "Klaus didn't seem happy to see Camille here. At all."

"Think he knows her?" Ezra wondered.

"He must," I replied, "otherwise he wouldn't have cared at all, right?"

"Think he has feelings for her?"

"I don't know that an Original is even capable of having real feelings about someone," I grumbled. "From all accounts they're fairly heartless. But keep an eye on her just in case," I added with a sigh. "If she is important to Klaus too and something happens to her both he  _and_  Marcel will flip out and that's the last thing we need."

"I'll be on guard," he assured me, squeezing my hand gently in reassurance. "You look lovely, by the way," he added unexpectedly.

I smiled despite myself. "Thanks," I said. "You look pretty handsome yourself."

He gave a rakish grin that caught the attention of several ladies around us, then proceeded to head for the punch bowl to get us some drinks. I watched in amusement as some of the ladies in question less-than-conspicuously trailed after him, cornering him with bright smiles and twittering laughs.

I, meanwhile, settled myself at a nearby table and picked absently at a platter of fruits and crackers as I watched the goings-on of the party. I watched as Klaus extended his arm to Camille and they moved across the room, exchanging pleasant conversation as they went. I watched as Rebekah went to the bar, ordered a scotch, and flirted with Marcel when he came over to call her out on inviting Camille to the party. I watched as Camille noticed Rebekah chatting up Marcel, and the pinched look on her face as she realized that must have been an item in the past. I watched as Klaus cheered her up a bit and I watched as they looked at each other in silence for a long moment. I watched as Klaus seemed about to say something, then cut himself off and stepped away as Marcel began to head over.

I decided some time later that I was tired of just sitting around and watching people, and went to rejoin the Mikaelsons, who were across the room, watching as Marcel twirled Camille around on the dance floor. My brother, bless his heart, was still boxed in by beautiful women trying to get his number. I snickered a bit as I passed him by, and he shot me a dirty look that promised retribution later for not rescuing him from his admirers.

In any case, I came up at Rebekah's side just as Klaus was saying something about Rebekah being evil and Rebekah pointing out that Klaus had wanted Marcel distracted and she'd provided said distraction so he should stop complaining. I was about to interrupt to offer my opinion, that Camille maybe shouldn't have been involved since none of this had anything to do with her, but one of Marcel's other vampires -Diego, I think his name was- came onto the scene and hurried across the room to whisper something in Marcel's ear.

Marcel pulled away from Camille a second later, expression thunderous.

"Our cue to leave," Rebekah remarked, looking over to me for confirmation.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go." I gave Klaus an awkward little wave and then Rebekah and I were slipping through the crowd, heading back out to the parking lot. I managed to catch Ezra's attention before our exit, and he gave me a nod to show me that he understood. I nodded back, and then we were outside and headed for the car.

Rebekah drove, as usual, with a complete and total disregard for speed limits and traffic laws, and we quickly arrived at the Lafayette Cemetery. We found Sophie outside the mausoleum, where she had set up everything she needed for her locator spell; a map, a bottle of black sand, and a pocket watch. I, personally, would have used a real pendulum rather than a pocket watch, but aside from little things like that she had everything all in order.

She looked over at us as we approached, her expression clearly conflicted. "I'm really not sure about this," she said honestly.

"You're doing the right thing," Rebekah told her. "It's the only way to find Elijah."

Sophie shook her head, looking unhappy. "I'm doing what I have to do," was all she said in reply, then busied herself with chanting the incantation for the spell.

Everything seemed to go well enough to start. But after a short time, Sophie faltered in her chanting, looking confused.

"What is it?" I asked, feeling the first stirrings of real anxiety. "What happened?"

"Something's wrong," she said uncertainly. "Katie's magic stopped. I can keep going," she added.

Rebekah glanced over at me, but I shook my head. "You can't," I said. "She'll sense it." We all knew the she I meant.

Sophie knew, too, but she still persisted. "No," she said stubbornly. "I can find Davina. I just need another moment."

"Rebekah," I began to say, but the Original was already on it. She grabs the map and tosses it off to the side so that Sophie can't continue the spell.

Sophie just stares at her, shocked beyond words. Finally, the young witch swallowed and managed to speak. "Why?" she asked weakly. "We were so close...Why would you..."

"You may be willing to die to get your witch back, but Hayley and the baby will die with you," Rebekah said heatedly. "Elijah will never forgive us, and rescuing him will be for nothing."

"It's over," I concluded, looking at the scattered remnants of the spell. "We failed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's interested in seeing the dress I pictured Zoe wearing, you can find it on my tumblr account; http://yuzukimist.tumblr.com/post/133225019495. :) I'll have it posted under the Inevitable: Screenshots series soon, too, if you'd rather find it there.


	23. Chapter 23

**"Life is not what it's supposed to be. It's what it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference."**

* * *

Rebekah and I were lounging in the living room when Klaus finally returned home for the night. I was reclined on the couch with a Sherrilyn Kenyon book while Rebekah idly played around on the piano and occasionally sipped at her glass of bourbon. Ezra was in the kitchen, cooking like he likes to do after being put in uncomfortable situations with women and personal space invasions. As far as I'm concerned, it's a fairly decent coping mechanism, all things considered. Certainly better than the older methods involving training dummies and exploding shotgun blasts. This time around he was doing something clever with portabella mushrooms and cheese that I had minimal interest in beyond eating it when it was finished.

"Well," Rebekah remarked when Klaus came in, "tonight was an epic failure."  
  
Klaus, however, grinned. "On the contrary, sister. Tonight was a masterpiece."

"Are you mad?" Rebekah demanded. "Katie died before Sophie could complete the spell."

"Oh, I'm well aware," Klaus replied, looking thoroughly unconcerned. "I killed Katie."

I bolted upright and slammed my book shut. "You  _what_?" I snarled.

"There's no way our little suicide witch wasn't gonna try and take out Marcel with her," Klaus explained, seemingly unaffected by my fury and Rebekah's horrified expression. "I saved his life," Klaus went on, "and in doing so, I now have him exactly where I want him."

I had no idea what to say to that, so I opted to remain silent and wait for an opening to throw my book at his head.

Rebekah, however, didn't seem to think silence was the best option. "Sophie trusted you," she said accusingly, jabbing a finger at her brother. " _I_  trusted you! Against  _all_  my better instincts."

Klaus looked sincerely aggravated, and slightly offended. "Wake up, Rebekah! The witches are on no one's side but their own. This girl, Davina? That's all they want, and when they have her, what do you think happens then, a truce?" He snorted, shaking his head. "Of course not. They will use Davina's power against  _all_  of us."

I felt inclined to agree with that particular assessment, but didn't voice it, not really wanting to agree with someone who'd just murdered a lovestruck witch in cold blood.

"Even if you're right," Rebekah responded, also apparently seeing the point Klaus was trying to make, "the plan was to  _find Elijah_ , and you've failed us."

Klaus looked over at me as if to get my opinion, and I just shrugged. "She has a point," I observed. "Rescuing Elijah is our goal, and yet I don't see him here with us."

Klaus shook his head like he was disappointed in us. "Such a disheartening lack of faith," he remarked. "By protecting Marcel," he continued, "I've cemented his trust, so much so that he's agreed to return Elijah to us. And when the time is right, when he has told me everything I need to know about Davina, I will have her for myself."

"That sounds," I said evenly, my voice matter-of-fact, "extremely creepy when said that way. Please rephrase."

He ignored me, as did Rebekah. "I have all the faith in the world that you'll get what you want, Nik," she said to her brother. "You always do, no matter what it costs the rest of us. " She took a sip from her glass of bourbon then slammed it down on the top of the piano. " _You disgust me_ _,_ " she hissed at him, then stormed from the room.

Deciding that maybe I should go check on my brother's progress with the stuffed mushrooms, I carefully set my book down on the edge of the couch and headed for the kitchen.

"Wait," Klaus said suddenly, and I froze in place, my inner wolf snarling at having my back to him. I quickly remedied this, turning around so that we were facing each other.

"Yes?" I said politely.

"I'm surprised that you voiced no objections over Katie's death."

"You mean her murder at your hands?" I asked coldly.

He gave a slight smile. "Semantics."

"Specifics," I corrected, then shook my head. "You wouldn't care if I blew up at you over it anyway, would you?"

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shrugged. "Probably not, no."  
  
"So why ask?"

He looked at carefully. "Because I don't know enough about you," he replied. "I don't know what your endgame is in all this, and that worries me."

"My only goal," I said calmly, "is to keep my brother and myself in one piece and away from our uncle. Beyond that, I'm just killing time."

"Really. I find that hard to believe."  
  
"Believe what you want," I said curtly, turning my back on him. "See if I care."

He didn't stop me again, and I heard him go upstairs even as I went into the kitchen to check on my brother.

"Getting along graciously with our hosts, I see," Ezra said by way of greeting as I came over to watch him stuff mozzarella into massive mushrooms.  
  
I gave an annoyed sigh. "Please don't harp on me about playing nice with the Originals. I'm not really in the mood for it right now."  
  
"Yeah, I heard about Katie," he said. "Can't say that I'm terribly surprised, but still, it sucks."

"It does," I agreed, and leaned against the counter tiredly. "Are we really doing the right thing here?" I asked worriedly. "Helping them get their brother back? I mean, what if all of this only escalates once Elijah is free? What if this all just turns into even more of a bloodbath?"

"Then we'll deal with it," he replied evenly. "Just like we always do. Don't worry, okay?" He looked over me and gave me a faint smile. "You should get some rest," he told me. "You look exhausted."  
  
"So do you," I fired back, then let my voice take on a teasing tone. "Was it really so taxing, letting all those lovely ladies fawn all over you?"

Ezra shuddered in distaste. "Ugh," he said, making a face. "I had to shower  _twice_  just to rid of the smell of their perfume on me."

I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter.

"Shut up," he said in response to my amusement, tossing a handful of cheese at me.

I gave a squeal as the cheese pattered down on my hair and shoulders and punched him lightly on the arm. "Jerk!"

"Go to bed, Zoe," Ezra said, using his brother-knows-best voice. "I'll see you in the morning."

Sticking my tongue out at him as I brushed cheese from my hair, I left the kitchen and went back upstairs to my room.

Instead of going to bed, however, I hopped onto my laptop and surfed around online, checking out the local news reports on the various incidents around town. I managed to track down a blurb about the motel guy who'd been decapitated, but all it said that the investigation was ongoing and that no details could be released at this time. I searched around some more with no further luck, then ran a search on our car crash.   
  
Similar to the murder, all the report said was that the police were looking into it and couldn't reveal anything more. Frustrated, I logged off and crawled into bed, questions pinging around in my brain like pinballs.   
  
Who had killed the motel clerk? When would the next Shadow Coven assassins arrive? Would they attack us if we were allied with the Mikaelsons? Where was Davina? Why was she with Marcel when he had a ban on witchcraft? Why was Sophie so clearly afraid of Davina? Was Sophie trying to save Davina from Marcel, or use the girl for her own purposes? Did Marcel really value Camille? Did Klaus? Did Rebekah still have feelings for Marcel? Would it impact her ability to think clearly where he was concerned? Would their past history together affect  _Marcel's_  ability to think clearly about  _her_? Could we use that to our advantage in case Marcel's deal with Klaus fell through?   
  
And on that note, could we even trust Marcel's promise to Klaus about releasing Elijah? For that matter, could we trust the Originals themselves? I didn't know if I could handle being stabbed in the back again, and knew that my brother certainly couldn't deal with another betrayal, not when he was still recovering from the last one. The most painful one, both emotionally and physically.

I wanted to pull my hair out in frustration. Too many questions, and no satisfactory answers.

I hoped that things would seem better and more straightforward in the morning, but somehow I doubted it.


	24. Chapter 24

" **Throw me to the wolves and I will return leading the pack."**

* * *

"This," I said after Klaus had laid out his plans regarding the music festival for us, "is a terrible, awful idea."

"Seconded," my brother supplied, scowling at Klaus. "It sucks."

Klaus glared at us. "I did not ask for your opinions on the matter," he said irritably. "I'm simply requesting that you be where I need you to be at the appropriate times."

"To corner a little girl and blackmail her into doing your bidding," Ezra said distastefully.

"Your sister is the one who volunteered to help find my brother to begin with," Klaus reminded us pointedly. "It's a little late now to be complaining about the methods."

I wanted to argue further, but he had a point. "Fine," I said, exasperated. "We'll help. We'll be there when you need us to be. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," he said crisply. "Now, run along and help Cami get ready. Last I spoke with her, she was having some second thoughts about attending tonight's festivities."

"Are you compelling her to help you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Of course I am," he replied easily, his tone unperturbed, though I couldn't help notice the tightening of his jaw as he answered. I wondered if manipulating Camille was really as easy as he made it out to be, or if it was troubling him somehow. Whatever it was, it would pay to bear it in mind for future reference. For now, I just settled for giving him an angry glare coupled with a severe frown.

"Is your sister always so angry?" Klaus asked Ezra curiously, giving me a faintly amused look.

"Depends on what assholes she's dealing with at the time," my brother drawled.

Klaus snorted, then waved a hand at me dismissively. "Get going," he said. "Camille's waiting."

I rolled my eyes and left, knowing that Ezra could look after himself well enough even when dealing with Klaus Mikaelson. I popped upstairs to check on Rebekah, who was now dedicating all her time to tracking down the attic Elijah was being kept in, and double-checked to make sure I could borrow her car.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," was her response, along with a vague wave goodbye. Amused, I thanked her and headed out, reveling in the feel of being behind the wheel again as I raced through New Orleans to pick up Cami. It was a small bit of freedom, but it was freedom nevertheless, and there's nothing I value more highly than my freedom, no matter the circumstances.

* * *

Ezra was not sure what to expect Klaus to say to him once his twin was gone. He and the hybrid had really only said a handful of words to each other in the time since he and Zoe had moved into their plantation-style manor house, and frankly Ezra quite liked it that way. His wolf was infinitely more temperamental than Zoe's, and having another male with wolf heritage in close proximity was setting off all his territorial instincts. Spending any extended period of time with Klaus would likely only rile his wolf up more, and he'd end up doing or saying something that would lead to a fight. Things would likely only get worse from there.

So he kept quiet once Zoe left, instead inspecting the itinerary for the annual Dauphine Street Music Festival.

"What do you think?" Klaus asked unexpectedly.

Ezra didn't glance up, because that might mean making eye contact, and that would almost definitely set off his wolf. "About what?" he asked neutrally.

"About my plan," Klaus said, and Ezra could almost  _hear_  the Orignal rolling his eyes.

"I agree with my sister," Ezra repeated evenly. "It sort of sucks."

"Well," Klaus replied, not sounding at all offended, "at least is  _is_  a plan. Better than whatever it is Rebekah's working on upstairs with those ridiculous pictures of hers."

"Satellite images," Ezra corrected, flipping to the second page of the itinerary to look over the list of vendors and performers. "She's looking at satellite images, trying to locate the attic she found Elijah in before Davina wiped her memory."

Klaus made an unimpressed sound. "Yes, well, you'll pardon me if I think her quest for finding the perfect window shutter is not the best way to go about freeing my brother."

Ezra couldn't help it, he laughed a little. "She is going about it in a difficult way," he agreed. "But she's not on-board with your plan to get Davina on our side, so I think that's about all you can expect her to do at this point."

"I think it's more that she doesn't trust me to put freeing Elijah before recruiting Davina," Klaus said speculatively.

Ezra wasn't going near that one with a ten-foot pole. Instead, he just said "Mm-hmm" and otherwise kept his opinions on the Mikaelson family's dysfunctional behaviors to himself.

"Do me a favor?" Klaus said suddenly, rapping the tabletop to get Ezra's attention.

Startled, Ezra looked up despite himself. "Yeah?"

"Go with Rebekah," Klaus said, seeming serious. "She's more than capable of looking after herself in normal circumstances but the potency of this witch's power troubles me. So go with her, just in case she does find the right attic. Okay?"

Ezra stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge the hybrid's sincerity. "Okay," he said at last. "I'll accompany her. She won't be happy about it, though," he felt obligated to add. "I get the feeling she's an independent woman and likes it that way."  
  
Klaus gave a snort of amusement. "Just tell her I've ordered you to keep an eye on her. She'll be so furious at my overbearing tendencies that she won't have energy to spare being annoyed at you."

"That's assuming she'll believe that I'd follow your orders," Ezra remarked, giving a faintly crooked smile.

Klaus smirked. "There is that."

Ezra shook his head and departed, heading upstairs to hover over Rebekah as Klaus had requested. No, he would likely never follow any real orders given to him by Klaus, but it seemed that the hybrid's worry for his sister was genuine and coming from a real place, so Ezra would humor him in this. He understood, after all, the desire to protect one's sister.

* * *

Cami, I decided, was the perfect chaperone for a young teenage witch.

I was keeping my distance, tailing them as they toured around the different booths and performances. I'd helped Camille get ready, had assured her that everything would be fine, and had then kept my distance, just keeping an eye on things like Klaus had asked me to do until the time was right to act.

I still wasn't thrilled with Klaus's plan, but couldn't deny that it was the most feasible option at the moment. So I'd agreed, and now I had to follow through.

Thoughts of the plan and the various maneuvers needed to pull it off vanished as I caught a glimpse of someone flitting through an alleyway across the street. I glanced around, but no one else seemed to have noticed anything.

An uneasy feeling began to gnaw at me, and I picked up my pace to close the distance between myself and Camille, who was only a block or so away with Davina, the two of them oohing and aahing over some guy who was playing a saxophone and a xylophone at the same time. Before I could reach them, however, another dark figure emerged out of nowhere and clubbed me upside the head with something hard and heavy.

I made a strangled sound and toppled sideways, my vision going fuzzy and dark as my eyes started to ring. I crashed to the ground with a grunt, and tried to scramble to my feet only for someone to step down hard on my leg and break my ankle. The same ankle, I feel obligated to add, that had only just finished healing from its last break earlier that morning.

I tried to scream for help, or at least to get someone's attention, but all that came out was a pathetic gurgling sound, like I was choking on my own air or something. And before I could suck in a deep breath and try again, whoever had attacked me stuffed a wad of rank-smelling cloth into my mouth and slapped a piece of extra-strength duct-tape across my lips.

 _Well_ , I thought hazily.  _This isn't good._

* * *

Ezra trailed after Rebekah as she entered the seventeenth building on her list of possible locations for where Elijah might be being kept. Through methods she hadn't felt inclined to share, she'd narrowed it down to somewhere in the Quarter. Of course, that had still left them with a wide assortment of buildings to check out, even with Rebekah's specific requirements regarding the window shutters.

This time it was a church, seemingly abandoned. True enough, when they entered, there was only one other person there, a priest who was cleaning up.

"Church is closed," the priest told them. "If you want your horror fix," he added bitterly, "go take a ghost tour."

Ezra frowned, not sure what exactly the man meant by that last bit.

Rebekah, for her part, didn't seem troubled by the priest's unfriendly attitude. "I don't much care for ghosts. I am, however, fascinated by window shutters. My friend and I have been on a town tour of them all day. I noticed the windows of your attic have shutters," she added.

The priest didn't seem to know what to say to that. "Are you really interested in shutters?" he asked at last, clearly skeptical.

"I assure you," Rebekah told him sincerely, "it's my current life obsession." She looked at him more closely. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Father Kieran," he replied. "And the two of you are?"

"Mildly curious," Rebekah responded easily without missing a beat.

Ezra rolled his eyes at her flip response, then frowned again as he saw a wide stain of red on a wall. His wolf growled within him, and he took a deep breath, inhaling the scents in the church.

Sure enough, the red on the wall was blood. "What happened here?" he asked, not sure why he was asking but needing to know.

Father Kieran heaved a deep sigh. "St. Ann's used to be the heart of the neighborhood. It's been abandoned for a while now... since the night of the massacre."

"Massacre?" Ezra repeated.

"Nine seminary students were killed... by one of their own. You're standing on blood," he added to Rebekah, looking pointedly at the rust-colored stains on the floor beneath her feet.

"I'm not squeamish," Reekah replied, unperturbed. "Where's the attic?"

Father Kieran shook his head. "Like I said, the church is closed."

She used her vampire speed to get in front of him before Ezra could stop her. Unable to intervene in time and not sure whether he really wanted to intervene or not, all he could do was watch as she compelled the priest to do as she said.

"Where is the attic?" she repeated.

"Past the sacristy," Father Kieran answered, "up the stairs."

Rebekah gave a bright smile. "Thank you. Now forget we were here." Then she released him and walked away, headed for the stairs that would lead her up to the attic.

"Sorry," Ezra murmured, then brushed past the priest as well to follow after Rebekah.

Once upstairs, they found a door into the attic. Rebekah opened it, and let out a crow of triumph. "I knew it!"

"Nicely done," Ezra said, impressed despite himself. "You really found it."

"I did," she said proudly. "Now let's get Elijah the hell out of here." She made a move to cross into the attic, heading for where Elijah lay silently in the open coffin. But it was like a force-field halted her forward motion; no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't make it over the threshold.

"Davina must have revoked your invitation from before," Ezra guessed.

"That brat," Rebekah seethed. "Now what do we do?"

As if in answer, Elijah's eyes flew open, and the next thing Ezra knew, he and Rebekah were no longer in the attic, but were instead standing someplace he did not recognize, dressed in clothes he'd never seen before.

"What the bloody hell?" Rebekah blurted out, her thoughts on the matter clearly in perfect in sync with his own.

"Rebekah, language, please!" a vaguely familiar voice said in chastisement.

Rebekah whirled around and let loose an exclamation of joy. "Elijah!" She ran forward and tackled him in a fierce hug before pulling away and swiping away the happy tears under her eyes. "What is all this?" she asked, looking around at the surrounding scene. If Ezra had needed to hazard a guess, he'd have said it was New Orleans a  _very_  long time ago; perhaps the late eighteen hundreds sometime, judging from the horse-drawn carriage and the style of the clothing.

"You don't remember?" Elijah replied. "We went to the opera house together. It was your first full day back into New Orleans' society after Klaus removed the dagger from you. It's a memory that only you and I share. Also," he added more seriously, "I needed you to know it wasn't another one of Davina's tricks."

"If it's a memory only you two have," Ezra interjected, "why am I seeing this too?" He let it be known from his tone that he was not overly thrilled with being sucked into a vampiric telepathic conference call.

"My apologies," Elijah said, though he didn't sound particularly sorry. "I was in such a hurry to contact my sister that I did not account for the possibility of anyone else being with her." Then he narrowed his gaze at Ezra. "What  _are_  you doing with my sister?" he asked. "Ezra, wasn't it? Zoe's brother?"

"I'm surprised you remember," Ezra said. "We only met for a moment."

"It was a memorable meeting," Elijah responded. "How is your sister?"

Ezra opened his mouth to reply with 'She's fine', then frowned as a sudden and unexpected feeling dread swelled up within him. "None of your business," he said instead, since he wouldn't risk saying that she was okay when she might not be. Now worried about Zoe, he only half-listened to Rebekah and Elijah resume their conversation.

"How are you even awake? " Rebekah asked.

"Davina removed the dagger," Elijah explained with a smile, "unaware that doing so even once would negate the dagger's power. In a few hours, I shall be as good as new!"

Ezra offered the obligatory congratulations about this even as Rebekah nearly jumped with joy. Ezra  _was_  glad that Elijah was about to have freedom again at last, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something very, very wrong was going on with his sister.

He reached down into himself and connected with his wolf, being very careful to not let his eyes shift while Rebekah and her brother were in such close proximity.  _Tell me what you sense_ , he told his wolf.  _Tell me what this feeling is._

 _Danger_ , his wolf answered.  _Darkness. Pain._

 _Whose pain?_ he demanded. _Zoe's? Is Zoe hurt?_

 _Sister,_ his wolf answered, giving an anxious whine.  _Danger. Pain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if anyone's interested, I've posted another addition to the Inevitable: Screenshots series; this time it's an Ezra quotepic. Hop on over if you're interested in seeing it. :)


	25. Chapter 25

" _ **She stood in the storm**_ **,** _ **and when the wind did not blow her**_ **way,** _ **she adjusted her sails**_ **. "**

* * *

I decided that being abducted was definitely one of the worst life experiences I'd had so far.

First I'd been clubbed over the head, beaten, and gagged. Then I'd been tossed into the back of a really smelly van, and was being driven God only knew where, in the middle of the night. To top it off, no one would likely even notice that I was missing, preoccupied as they all were with their own duties pertaining to the mission tonight. No one would know that anything was amiss until it came time for me to join Klaus and play good cop to his bad cop in convincing Davina to ditch Marcel and come over to our side. I briefly contemplated how badly things could go with that little meeting now that I wasn't around to play good cop, but decided that since there wasn't anything I could do about it at the moment, there wasn't much point worrying about it. Either Klaus would convince Davina in his own way, or everyone would end up dead. The odds were pretty much fifty-fifty, which was better than my own situation at the moment.

I struggled against the ropes binding me, but they'd been soaked in some sort of wolfsbane concoction, and the aconite burned against my skin and weakened me more than I would have liked to admit. As it was, all I could do was thrash around weakly and make sad little moans. After a few moments of this, I stopped trying to struggle free, and instead made a conscious effort to relax my body, trying not to panic as my muscles give little spasms from the wolfsbane seeping into my bloodstream from the skin contact with the rope. My heart rate likewise was getting a little unsteady. My thought processes, of course, were already fairly muddled from the whack upside the head, and my concussed brain was not thinking clearly; the aconite poisoning would certainly only make that befuddlement worse the longer it went on.

I sat in the back of that van for what felt like forever, but eventually the vehicle pulled to a stop. The driver put it in park and pulled out the keys, tossing them into the glove box before hopping out of the driver's seat and coming around to open the back of the van.

"Hello, Miss Storme," my abductor said cheerfully. "Thank you for obliging me with your presence this fine evening."

Had my mouth not been taped shut, I would have had several hundred rude things to say in response to that. As it was, I just glared at him and silently seethed.

He saw my glare and laughed uproariously. "Thinking of escaping?" he asked. "Best stop that now," he advised. "I have more wolfsbane set aside just for you, and some nice silver chains to make sure you don't get away anytime soon."

I growled at him, the sound rumbling up from my chest. The effect was somewhat lessened by the tape, which muffled the sound a bit, but even so it was intimidating enough to make the man take a step back before he recovered his composure and smacked me hard across the face.

"Let's stop with that noise, shall we?" He gave me a charming smile. "No point being unfriendly to each other, is there? We'll be spending a lot of quality time together, after all."

 _Over my dead body._ I growled again.

He hit me again, so hard that my head snapped to the side and my teeth rattled. This, of course, only pissed me off more, and I growled a third time. This time the sound of it was so loud it vibrated off the metal walls of the van and echoed around us.

Seeming to decide that smacking me around wasn't good enough, he drew back his fist and punched me in the face. I toppled over backwards and slammed my head against the floor of the van, my vision going pretty wonky for a second as I struggled to recover from the hit.

My abductor took immediate advantage of my being stunned, grabbing my legs and hauling me out of the van in much the same way a person would haul around a worthless sack of potatoes. He carried me across what seemed to be a warehouse and dumped me to the floor next to a pile of silver chains. I flinched away from the silver, and my captor laughed. "You really are part wolf, aren't you?"

No," I said sarcastically. "I'm part chipmunk." Or at least that's what I tried to say. It came out more like "Mrhm. Auhm praghk chiugmyunk" because I was still ridiculously gagged, but the intent to be snarky was there, at least.

My abductor, of course, found my attempts to speak downright hilarious and spent the next several minutes laughing obnoxiously at me. Once done, he wrapped my wrists in silver chains and hooked them to a thick steel ring embedded in the floor. "There we go," he said in satisfaction once he was done and surveying his handiwork. "Nice and secure. Now, just sit tight while I go finish up your travel arrangements. First class flight, of course," he added with a wink.

I managed to flip him off despite the massive amount of burning pain I was in, but he only laughed some more, then left, whistling merrily as he hopped back into the van and drove away. I caught a glimpse of him talking on a cellphone as he went, but then he was gone out of my line of sight again. He paused only to shut the doors of the warehouse behind him, and then the rumble of the van's engine diminished until it was obvious that he was gone.

 _Well. This really sucks._ I twisted my wrists around, trying to loosen the chains even just a little, but the metal just rubbed against my skin more, burning on contact and leaving angry red welts wherever it touched. _Shit._ I craned my neck around, looking for some means of escape. Nothing looked particularly promising at first, but then my gaze honed in on an innocuous-looking folding chair a short distance away. Obviously placed there so my captor could amuse himself by watching my struggles, it seemed like my best bet of escape, if only I could somehow reach it and break off a piece.

I managed to crawl across the floor until the slack on my chains ran out, which put me almost within arm's reach of the chair. I strained further against my chains, trying to ignore the agonizing pain racing through my body from the silver. Between that and the aconite poisoning, it was a miracle I was even still conscious, much less fighting for escape. But I'm a Storme, and we're nothing if not tenacious. So I reached out for the chair, and after a lot struggling and muffled cursing, I managed to snag it with the very ends of my fingertips, and managed to wiggle it closer bit by bit until I had it close enough to work with. I wasted no time in inspecting it closely and snapping off a piece that I thought would best serve my purposes.

It wasn't easy flipping the thin strip of metal around to wedge it between two links of the chains wrapping around my wrists, but after a while I managed it. I then applied as much pressure as I was able to on the metal, and after a few moments of struggling the silver gave way, the bright links snapping apart and scattering across the warehouse floor.

I scrambled to get the rest of the chains off of me, and once I was free of them I crossed the warehouse as fast my feet could carry me, not wanting to be closer to the silver than I had to be. My next task as carefully unpeeling the tape from my face and spitting out the rag he'd stuffed into my mouth to muffle me. I tossed the rag away, not wanting to think about how it smelled like motor oil and that fact I'd had it in my mouth for what felt like hours. I crouched down as a wave of dizziness swamped me suddenly and I had to take several deep breaths before I felt steady again.

Once I was sure that I wasn't going to pass out, I did a quick self-assessment, which mostly consisted of checking in with my wolf side, which was dazed but functional. I had no doubt that once the wolfsbane and silver poisoning wore off, my wolfself would be more than ready to start tearing out throats, starting with the bastard who had grabbed me.

For now, though, escape was my top priority. So I took a moment to make sure no one else was around, then slipped quietly out a side door. It took me a moment to get my bearings, but a glance up at the sky and the moon gave me a general idea of at least what time it was and roughly where I was, so I set off in the direction of the Quarter. It would be quite a hike on foot, so I hoped a cab might pass by. Given that I was somewhere in the middle of a deserted industrial area that was probably unlikely, but a girl can hope, right?

In any case, I walked off into the night without looking back, my thoughts now turning to my brother and our allies.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight trigger warning for some portions of the chapter where Ezra is having some flashbacks to being tortured.

" **Intuition is seeing with the soul."**

* * *

Ezra allowed Rebekah to usher him out of the church once she was finished her little psychic powwow with her brother Elijah. He'd tuned out most of it, but whatever else had been said while he'd been preoccupied with his sudden inexplicable worry for Zoe, he'd overheard something about protecting Hayley. Which was apparently what they were now going to go do.

"Where are we actually going?" he asked in exasperation as he slid into the passenger seat of the car while Rebekah revved the engine.

"Hayley's at a doctor's appointment out in the bayou," the vampire told him. "And I have a bad feeling."

"If you say so," he replied doubtfully.

The sped out of the city and out to the bayou, parking off the side of the road. They stepped out of the car and almost immediately heard the sounds of fighting.

"Over that way," Rebekah said suddenly, and then sped off into the night.

"We don't all have vampire speed," he shouted after her, but got no response. His wolf gave a growling rumble, unsettled from a lot of different factors, and Ezra took a moment to send a few reassuring feelings that way, in the hopes of keeping that side of himself calm and level-headed. It was likely completely pointless, since if his wolf was going surge out of control no amount of pacifying feelings were going to help, but he figured it was worth a shot.

In any case, he broke into a jog and after taking out a few surprise attacks along the way from people who smelled like anger and magic, he caught up with Rebekah, who was standing with Hayley, five bodies littering the ground around them.

"Remind me to not piss either of you off," he remarked, kneeling down to make sure that the corpses in question were really dead and not just unconscious or faking.

"Who are they?" Rebekah asked.

"Witches," Hayley said, right as Ezra said "Warlocks." They looked at each other, gave mutual shrugs and said "Whatever" in unison.

Rebekah gave an amused little smile, then frowned as she spotted flashlight beams flaring in the distance. "There're more of them. Run!"

Hayley hesitated, unsure. "I can't just leave you!"  
  
"Go!" Rebekah shouted. "Ezra, take her! Get her out of here!"

He wasted no time in complying, grabbing Hayley by the wrist and pulling her after him, away from Rebekah and the approaching attackers. His inner wolf, not liking the idea of being the prey in a hunt, growled in displeasure; Ezra did his best to ignore it and focus on getting Hayley to safety.

As it turned out, though, none of them were going to get very far. Two arrows shot out from the dark and pierced through Rebekah's chest. The Original froze, then crashed to the ground, immobilized.

"Rebekah!" Hayley cried out, making a lunge as if to run back.

"Don't-" Ezra began, but then an arrow was slamming into  _his_  chest and he went down hard, too, his mind spitting up flashbacks of the last time something had pierced his chest and hit his heart.

" _Aww, sweetie," a honey-sweet voice says tauntingly, "you really thought it was real, didn't you?" Bright summery laughter. "Silly boy."_

_A series of beatings that leave him broken and bleeding. "As if I'd ever sleep with a monster like you if I hadn't been ordered to." The words cut at him more than the beatings ever could._

" _Don't take it personally, though." A patronizing pat on the cheek. "This is my job, after all."_

" _Your uncle is going to make you regret the day you were ever born," she informs him later on, telling him this as if it's news, as if it's not something he's already known for as long as he can remember._

" _Worthless beast," she hisses as she carves out his heart, blood dripping down his chest to splash onto the floor. And no matter how he begs or pleads the knife just plunges deeper and deeper, until all he knows is red-hot pain and the darkness that follows._

" _Goodbye, Ezra."_

"Ezra!" Hayley knelt down and shook him hard, trying to wake him. But before she could get him to do more than mumble something that sounded like "Sirena, you bitch" an arrow thuds into her shoulder, and everything goes fuzzy and dark as she falls over sideways.

* * *

Rebekah woke up first, with no idea how long she'd been out. She sat up, recalled with a twinge of pain that she'd been shot in the chest with extreme prejudice, and promptly yanked the arrows out. Then she looked around, and spotted Ezra out cold a few feet away. She struggled to her feet and went over to him, kneeling down to examine his injuries.

He'd been shot with an arrow, too; it had pierced his chest perilously close to his heart. If he'd been mortal, he'd have already been dead. She pulled out the arrow, but had to leap back quickly as Ezra's eyes flared open and he lashed out.

Rebekah thought for a moment that his eyes had flashed gold, but then she dismissed it as a trick of the moonlight. "Ezra, calm down!" she said, raising her hands in a universal gesture of harmlessness. "It's just me, okay? Just Rebekah."

It took Ezra a moment to calm down, but then he just stared at her, eyes dark and haunted. "Rebekah," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself that it was really her.

"Yes," she said carefully. "Do you remember what happened?"

He blinked at her slowly, as if waking from some sort of nightmare. After a moment, he seemed to come out of whatever dark headspace he'd been in, because he shook his head hard to clear his thoughts and looked back at her with clear eyes. "We were attacked," he replied. "Someone shot us."

"With arrows," Rebekah agreed, handing him the arrow she'd pulled out of his chest.

He took it and made a face of supreme disgust. "It reeks of nightshade," he said, wrinkling his nose.

She didn't bother asking how he could tell, just looked around in growing alarm, realizing with horror that one of their number was conspicuously absent. "Hayley," she said frantically. "Where's Hayley? Hayley!" she called out. " _ **Hayley!**_ "

Ezra stood up shakily, wobbling for a moment before steadying himself. "Call your brother," he told her.

Rebekah paled. "He'll be furious."

"Yes, he will, but he deserves to know. He might be able to help us find her," he added reasonably.

Rebekah cursed but couldn't fault his logic and dialed up her brother. Sure enough, he was livid.

"What do you mean, 'she's missing?'" he snarled once she'd finished explaining the situation.

"What do you think I mean?" Rebekah snapped. "There's blood and bodies  _everywhere_ , someone's ripped this lot to shreds," she went on, nudging a ravaged body with her foot, "and there's no smart-aleck pregnant girl."

"Keep looking," Klaus ordered. "I'm on my way."

"Bossy," Rebekah grumbled as she pocketed her phone.

"His pregnant paramour is missing," Ezra observed. "He's allowed to be bossy."

Rebekah just shook her head and started off into the woods again. Ezra, seeing no choice but to follow her and help to the best of his ability, went along.

Eventually, they reached the little clinic where Hayley had presumably been getting checked out by the bayou doctor. Rebekah circled around the room looking for clues while Ezra knelt down by the doctor and looked her over, picking up the syringe that had been dropped nearby and inspecting it carefully.

Suddenly, his inner wolf reared back snarling. Ezra bolted to his feet and whirled around, seeing that Klaus had suddenly joined them without warning.

"Wow!" Rebekah said, giving him a mock round of applause. "You abandoned your quest for power to help out your family! Having an off day?"

Klaus, for once, did not raise to the bait, and instead looked deadly calm and collected. "Who took her, Rebekah?"  
  
"I don't know," Rebekah answered.

Klaus's calm demeanor cracked ever so slightly. "What do you mean, you don't know? And who killed her attackers?"

"I don't know!" Rebekah exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. "I had an arrow in my heart. If it wasn't Hayley who killed them, then-" Her words were cut off by a chorus of howls echoing through the night. Ezra felt his own wolf stir in response, wanting to let loose a howl of his own, but he stifled the urge and just watched the Mikaelsons for their reactions.

"Lovely," Rebekah said. "Maybe her cousins will know where she is." She swept out of the shack with Klaus hot on her heels, leaving Ezra to pull up the rear. Once outside, they saw Hayley coming towards them, looking dazed and out of sorts, but very much alive and unharmed.

Klaus, initially speechless, rushed over to her side at once. "Hayley!" he said anxiously. "What happened? Tell me what happened."

"I can't remember," the werewolf girl said groggily.

Klaus checked Hayley for injuries, running his hands over her with a quickness that bordered on frantic. "You've completely healed," he said at last. "There's not a scratch on you."

Hayley gave him a confused look. "One of the perks of being a werewolf, remember?"

"No," Klaus said, shaking his head. "Not that fast."

Rebekah came over and wrapped a protective arm around Hayley's shoulders. "Leave her alone!" she snapped at her brother, then frowned in thought. "It's the baby," she realized. "The vampire blood-  _Klaus's_  vampire blood- in your system. It can heal any wound. Your own baby can heal you," she declared in amazement, even as Klaus stared at Hayley in something akin to awe, a slight smile quirking up the corners of his mouth.

Rebekah then turned the conversation back to Hayley herself. "How did you escape?" Rebekah asked the young woman. "Outnumbered, unarmed? Those men were ripped to shreds!"  
  
"I think it was the wolf," Hayley murmured. "I think it's trying to protect me."

"Wolf?" Ezra repeated, not sure what, or who, she meant. But his voice was drowned out by Klaus, who had transitioned from worried to furious without taking a deep breath in between.

"The witches were supposed to protect you!" he snapped. "When I get my hands on Sophie Deveraux-"

"It wasn't Sophie," Rebekah said in protest.

"It was Agnes," Hayley added.

Klaus didn't seem to care about identity differences. "Fine! Agnes, Sophie, it's all the same to me! I'll slaughter the lot of them!"

"Not if Elijah gets there first," Rebekah remarked.

"Elijah?" Hayley repeated, expression brightening. "Did you find him?"

"He's been in touch," Rebekah assured her, "and he has a plan."

"All he asks is that we take care of you," Ezra felt compelled to add.

"Great," Hayley said. "That's really great. So...can we go home now? I'd really like to sleep for a few days..."

They all nodded and Hayley stood up. She managed to walk a few paces on her own, then stumbled and collapsed. Klaus caught her and swept her up into his arms before she could hit the ground. "I've got you, love," he promised her. "I've got you."

They trekked through the bayou a bit until they reached the spot where Rebekah and Ezra had parked off the road, then loaded themselves back into the car and drove back towards the city. They'd begun passing through an industrial district when suddenly Rebekah slammed on the brakes.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Klaus snapped, keeping a tight hold on Hayley so she didn't jerk around from whiplash.

Rebekah didn't respond, peering through the windshield. "Isn't that Zoe?" she said at last.

Ezra was unbuckled and out of the car before anyone else had a chance to speak.  _Sister_ , his wolf whimpered.  _Pain_. "Zoe!" he called out.

His sister turned around, putting a hand up in front of her eyes and squinting in the bright illumination from the headlights. "Ezra?" she said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"We were about to ask that of you," Klaus said, stepping out the car and slamming his door shut. "Where the hell were you when I needed you for back-up?" he added angrily.

That was evidently the wrong thing to say. "Oh, I'm so sorry I inconvenienced you with my absence," Zoe snapped sarcastically. "I was a little busy  _being abducted_  at the time!"

"Abducted?" Hayley repeated in surprise as she joined them. "You, too?"

Zoe narrowed her eyes on the pregnant girl. "What do you mean, 'too'?"

"Someone tried to grab Hayley during her pregnancy check-up," Rebekah explained. "We're pretty sure it was something to do with the witches."

Zoe pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to stave of an oncoming migraine. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

"Who took you?" Ezra asked, his voice coming out more snarly than he would have liked given their present company. "Did you recognize him?"

Zoe shook her head. "No, he didn't look familiar." She winced suddenly and put a hand up to the side of her head, where Ezra noticed a large bloody bump for the first time.

"He hit you?" he growled.

"Repeatedly," his sister replied dryly. "Most of the hits were in the face, actually, but the bruises have already healed." Another wince. "The head wound is a bit more tricky," she admitted. "I think he might have whacked me with something silv-" she cut herself off before saying 'silver' and just shook her head as if she were confused, "with something really  _solid_ ," she said instead, "because it's not really getting any better. It feels like a concussion. And my ankle's broken again," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Ezra wanted to track this man down and tear him apart slowly and painfully for daring to harm his twin. But there was nothing to be done about it now, so instead of dashing off into the night he took a deep breath to calm down and looped an arm around his sister's waist. "Let's get you back home and into bed, okay?"

She nodded tiredly. "Sounds good."

So he hustled her to the car and tucked her into the backseat next to Hayley, then made sure to keep an eye on her in the rear-view mirror as Rebekah broke every speed limit on the drive back to the Mikaelson mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if anyone cares, but just so you know: I posted ahead of schedule...to celebrate the fact that I AM DONE WITH MY FINALS. Man, that was exhausting. I loved my college classes, but tests are my Kryptonite. But! I'm all finished with that stuff now, and I wanted to share my joy with all of you by posting a few days early. So I hope you liked the chapter. Drop me a review if you've got a second to spare so I know how you're feeling about the story so far. :D


	27. Chapter 27

" **Just like there's always time for pain, there's always time for healing."**

* * *

 I woke up sometime around three in the morning. And by 'woke up' I mean I jolted awake with my heart pounding and a scream about to erupt out of my mouth.

As I stumbled across the room I managed to swallow the scream and turn it into very panicked hyperventilation instead, but either way it was obvious that sleeping was going to be all sorts of impossible for me tonight.

Normally, I'm not so wimpy about the bad things that have happened and will continue to happen to me. But something about being grabbed off the street so easily had unsettled something deep within me, and I was having a harder time than I would have expected getting myself back to a good place mentally. I went into my bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, then glanced at my reflection to see if I looked as awful as I felt.

Oddly enough,or perhaps ironically, my outward appearance was normal. I looked a little tired, and very pale, but otherwise fine. The only visible reminders of my abduction were the bruise on my temple from where I'd been walloped upside the head and the tight wrapping around my broken-but-healing ankle.

I stuck my tongue out at the pale Zoe in the mirror and returned to my bedroom. I sat down on the edge of the bed, but couldn't bring myself to try and lie down and go back to sleep. Not when I knew that I'd only wake up screaming again. So I reached for the book on my nightstand, only to remember that I'd left it downstairs. I rubbed the back of my neck tiredly, not liking the idea of roaming around the house and possibly running into someone who'd want to know what I was doing up, but left to go track down my book anyway.

I found it sitting on the couch where I'd left it, and was just turning to go back upstairs to my room when the front door opened and Klaus came in. We both froze upon seeing each other, and just sort of eyed each other warily for a minute. I couldn't help but notice that for all his rugged good looks and aura of dark charisma, Klaus was actually not looking so great right now. Truthfully, he looked pretty upset, his facial expression somewhere between agonized and regretful.

"Oh," was all I managed to say at first. Followed by, idiotically, "Are you okay?"

He gave me a look that told me in no uncertain terms that he did not appreciate being asked that question. "Fine," he said, his cold tone clearly intended to dissuade me from pestering him any more.

My inner wolf gave an little yip of warning, but I plugged along anyway. "Are you sure?" I asked.

His gaze narrowed. "Are  _you_  okay?" he asked instead of giving a real answer.

"Fine," I echoed right back at him.

"Really," he said, his tone laced with disbelief.

"Really," I said firmly.

A long, long moment of contemplative silence.

"Do you think we both sound equally transparent when we say that?" he said at last.

I couldn't help it; I was so startled by this thoughtful-sounding comment that I let out a snort of laughter.

Klaus seemed equally startled by my little burst of laughter, and cracked a hesitant half-smile in response. "I thought you'd be sound asleep in bed after your little kidnapping adventure today," Klaus remarked lightly, going over to sit at the piano.

I felt my smile drift off my face as I swallowed hard. "Couldn't sleep," was all I managed to say without sounding strangled.

Klaus paused in running his fingers over the piano keys. "Really," is all he says, but there's no mocking undercurrent in it this time, just a sort of acknowledgment that I'd spoken.

"Mm," was the only response I gave at first, slowly going over to the couch again and perching on the edge, fiddling with the book in my lap. "You were out late," I said at last, figuring that 'where the hell did you go after we got back?' was probably not the best thing to say to the Original hybrid whose house you were staying in.

He gave a little chuckle. "If this is an attempt at interrogation I have to say that your technique needs some improvement."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just curious where the infamous Klaus Mikaelson wanders off to when he's not busy hatching nefarious schemes."  
  
"Nefarious schemes?" He gave a little laugh. "You make me sound downright diabolical."

"Aren't you?" I shot back challengingly.

"Perhaps," he admitted, fingers running nimbly over the keys to pluck out some complicated sounding melody.   
  
I took a moment to discreetly admire the ease with which he played the piano, then steered myself back to the topic at hand. "So...where?"

"You're like a dog with a bone, aren't you?" he remarked. "Can't let it go."

I shrugged. "Not knowing things troubles me," I replied, which was true enough. "Also," I felt compelled to add, "because you make me extremely nervous."

"So you're keeping tabs on me then?" he surmised, sounding amused.

"I like to think I'm making a fair attempt at it," I responded.

He snorted. "If by 'fair' you mean heavy-handed and painfully obvious, then sure. You're doing fine."

I resisted again the urge to throw my book at him. "You," I told him clearly, "are an asshole."

"Yes," he said agreeably. "I am."

I heaved a sigh, and stood up to go, making sure to tuck my book under my arm so that I wouldn't need to embarrass myself further by needing to come look for it again. I'd almost made it to the stairs when Klaus spoke again.   
  
"Why couldn't you sleep?"

I froze in place, trying and failing to not think about the disjointed nightmares that had catapulted me from my slumber. "No reason," I said, but even to my ears I sounded pathetic.

"Mm," was Klaus's response. "Care to try that lie one more time?"

I was suddenly furious, and subsequently  _did_  throw my book at him. He caught it easily before it came anywhere close to doing damage (although being a paperback rather than hardcover, it was doubtful whether it could have done any real damage to begin with), and just arched a reproving eyebrow.

"I couldn't sleep," I told him through gritted teeth, "because I was having nightmares. I don't normally have problems with bad dreams," I added, "but I don't...I don't like feeling trapped." I wasn't sure why I was admitting this to him, to someone who was dangerous and could very well turn into my enemy in the future, but my wolf side didn't seem to mind the slips I was making. Perhaps that side of myself understood something about Klaus that my human half couldn't, something primal that had to do with predators and being cornered, rather than anything noticeable on the surface.

Klaus, surprisingly, didn't take the opportunity to press me for answers. Instead he just nodded, set my book aside, and fiddled around on the piano some more, moving from whatever complicated piece he'd been playing before to something more mellow. "I was...visiting a friend," he said after a moment of unexpectedly serenity, and it took me a moment to realize that he was answering my earlier question.

"A friend?" I repeated with a frown. "Not to sound like a bitch, but I was under the impression that you weren't really the sort of guy who  _had_  friends?"

He gave a dark laugh. "I'm not, usually. And I expect if you were to ask this particular person to define our relationship, she would do it with a great deal of swearing and condemnation."

My frowned deepened, and I ran those words over in my mind several times before realizing what – or rather, who– he meant. I literally had to run over in my mind a list of everyone female he could have met since he'd come to New Orleans. Most of them were witches he'd have absolutely no reasons to spend time with unless it was to maim and murder them.  _So who does that leave?_ I wondered.

Then it hit me. Being an extremely insensitive goober with no social skills whatsoever, I blurted it right out. "Oh my God,  _Camille_?"

He gave a barely perceptible wince, and his fingers started to hit the keys with perhaps a little more force than necessary. "She prefers to go by Cami."

Which wasn't really an actual answer, but..."That is not a no," I observed.

He just shook his head and didn't say anything else, and it occurred to me that since he and I barely knew each other and totally didn't get along about ninety-seven percent of the time, this conversation was out of the norm is a very extreme sort of way. "Is everything...okay?" I asked with no small amount of hesitation. "With...the two of you, I mean. You and...Cami."

Silence descended, and reigned supreme for so long that I very seriously thought that he just wouldn't answer. Not that I would have blamed him for not answering; I was literally a stranger in his house, and he had no reason to trust me, with anything. For all he knew I could be some sort of double-agent sent to spy on him.

But then he spoke again. "I've been manipulating her," he said at last. "To get closer to Marcel. It's not something I'm proud of," he added, obviously seeing my expression of consternation, "but I decided at the time that it was necessary and...well, it's too late to change things now. In any case," he continued, "today we learned some...very unsettling things about the death of her brother."

"What sorts of things?" I asked, trying to remember what exactly had happened with Camille's brother. Someone, at some point, had mentioned it in passing. Or had I read it in a newspaper article? No, that's wasn't right...Then it clicked. "The seminary student, right? The one who killed everyone and then himself?" Ezra had told me about it, during his explanation of how he and Rebekah had finally located Elijah. Something about a church and window shutters and a priest named Kieran. I'd gone online to poke around a bit more out of curiosity, but had been so exhausted from the day in general I'd given up and gone to bed. And promptly woken up screaming only a couple hours later, which had led me here to actually learn about the incident. I idly wondered if the universe was giving me answers to my curiosity, then decided that, no, it had to be coincidence. The universe didn't like me enough to be that helpful. "I didn't realize the boy was Camille's brother," I said to Klaus, suddenly aware that I had been staring off into space and stuck in my own head for longer than was polite when one is in the middle of a conversation. "I thought the case was closed. though. What changed?"

"We have reason to believe that the witches may have been responsible for his mental break," Klaus said and even with his nonchalant tone and worry-free expression, I could feel the pain radiating out from him, almost like a physical thing. My wolf-half, bizarrely, wanted to go comfort him. I reminded my wolfself that the Original hybrid did not need coddling. My wolf instincts promptly fired back with a bundle of wolfy instincts, to do with pack behavior and the comfort of physical touch. I tamped down on those instincts firmly, burying them down where they couldn't interfere with the here and now.

I refocused on Klaus, thanking my lucky stars that he was distracted enough himself to not notice how truly out of it  _I_  was acting. "Is that why you're so upset?" I asked him, still not sure why Klaus was in such pain. "Because Camille's brother was killed by the witches and it hurts her to think about it?" Logically, that might make sense. If she'd already made peace with what had happened, the revelation that it had been foul play would have caused lots of problems.

He shook his head. "No. She already knew, somehow, that he wasn't responsible for his own actions. She always suspected, at the back of her mind, I think." A long pause. "No, I am 'upset', as you put it, because I took the knowledge of that from her memories. And I am not sure whether I had the right."

I stared at him for a full minute, not quite sure how to interpret that. At last, I just asked. "Elaborate, please?"

"I compelled her," he said through gritted teeth, his fingers stilling on the piano keys. "I compelled her to forget what we'd learned about the witches and how they manipulated and destroyed her brother. I wanted her to be happy," he admitted, his voice grudging, like he didn't want to admit that, as if he thought it was a weakness to say the words out loud. "I don't want for her to carry that sort of weight around on her shoulders. She deserves to be happy."

I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to say to that. I am, as I'm sure you've noticed, not really the best person for these sorts of situations. In the end I just settled for "Ah. I see," and held my hand out for my book.

He picked it up, but instead of giving it back he looked at me long and hard for a moment, holding it just out of reach. "I'm not quite sure why I told you any of that."

"Neither am I," I said honestly. "But it seems like you needed to get it off your chest, so..." I shrugged. "It's no big deal. I won't tell anyone anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"No." He shook his head. "No, that's not it." He watched me for another few seconds, then held out my book. "Here."  
  
I hesitated, then grabbed it. "Thanks." I turned to go, but this time only made it a few steps before he called out.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

I turned around, puzzled. "Who?"

"Your kidnapper," Klaus elaborated. "Do you remember what he looked like?"

My frowned deepened as I cast my thoughts back, trying to recall the hazy events of the evening. "Kind of, yeah. Why?"

"Depending on how much you remember," Klaus said, not quite looking at me and instead seeming to focus very intently on view of the night sky outside the window, "I can do a rough sketch that we can use as a reference going forward. I doubt it will be of much use, honestly, but it might give us an idea of who to keep an eye out for."

I was so shocked by this offer that I stood there speechless. Then I bit my lip, not sure if this was worth wasting him time for. "I really don't remember much," I said uncertainly. "I mean, he clocked me upside the head pretty good, and I'm pretty sure he drugged me at some point. It's all pretty hazy."  
  
"Anything you remember is fine," he assured me. "And we don't need to do it right now," he added, glancing at the clock for what seemed to be the first time. "You need to get some sleep. We can work on the sketch in the morning."

I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure. "If it's all the same to you," I said at last, "I'd really rather we do it now. It might help me sleep," I added, not sure exactly why I felt the need to say so, but whatever. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the old saying goes.

Klaus looked at me with narrowed eyes for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he gave a careless shrug and reached for a sketchbook that had been sitting on a table nearby, along with a little mug of pencils and some paperweights.

"What can you tell me about him?" Klaus asked me once he'd shifted his position to face me, sketchpad held loosely in his hands. "What do you remember about him?"

"Not much," I admitted, struggling to think back. "It's all pretty blurry..." I bit my lip. "He was really tall, and really ripped. Like, Dwayne-Johnson-sized, seriously."  
Klaus didn't seem to have anything to say to that, just arched an eyebrow at my description before jotting down a note on the edge of his paper. "What else?"

"Uhm..." I racked my brain, mentally trudging through the black miasma that was my memory of the abduction. "I...I don't know," I said unhappily. "I was so out of it...I can't  _remember._ " I tugged on my hair in frustration.

"Start simple," Klaus advised, his attitude far more patient that I would have expected; I couldn't help but wonder if he was helping me so intently because he was trying to keep his mind of Camille and the wrong he'd done her. Whatever his reasons, he continued asking me careful questions. "His hair color, perhaps? Or eye color? Did he have any scars or birthmarks that you noticed?"

I chewed on my lip anxiously. "His hair," I repeated slowly, and then smiled a little as I finally remembered through the fog in my brain. "It was reddish-brown," I told Klaus. "And it was pretty short. Not like a buzz-cut, but pretty close. Almost as if he'd had a buzz-cut a few months ago but now he's letting it grow?" I decided that I sounded incredibly ridiculous and that maybe I should shut the hell up. "Sorry," I offered. "I'm not usually this much of a motor-mouth."  
  
"It's fine," Klaus replied, his tone casually disinterested as he began sketching lines lightly onto the paper. "What else do you remember? Eye color?"

I opened my mouth then scowled because it was just a total blank. "I...I don't remember," I admitted. I could remember other little details, like the gag rag that had reeked of motor oil, or the little pile of fast food trash that had been in the back of the van with me, but for some reason I couldn't quite recall the color of my kidnapper's eyes. I scrunched my face up, closing my eyes and struggling to remember. "Maybe...blue? No, not blue," I corrected immediately. "Maybe gray? No...that's not right, either..." I couldn't help it, a little growl escaped from my throat.

Klaus gave me an unreadable look, but waved a hand dismissively. "Forget the color, then. What about the shape? Wide, skinny? Almond shaped? How far apart were they? Were they symmetrical?"

I stared at him. "I never realized a person's eyes could be so..." I fluttered a hand vaguely, not sure what it was I actually wanted to say.

Klaus just shrugged. "I suppose," was all he said, which was not an answer at all. Not that I could blame him, I hadn't really asked an actual question.

"He was just...ordinary-looking," I said at last, trying and failing to think of a better way to say it. "I mean, he was the size of a house, obviously, but he just...looked totally normal. Not plain, exactly, just...nondescript? Like I wouldn't have looked twice at him if we'd passed on the street, you know?"

Klaus seemed to consider that for a long moment, then gave a brisk nod. "I'll do a few sketches for you and you can go over them and tell me whether certain aspects are right or not," he told me. "It might take a few days," he added. "I am, after all, preoccupied with other matters."

"I'm aware," I replied dryly. "Marcel and the witches and whatever the hell else it is you've got going on."

"I'm a busy man," he said, pulling a mock-offended face at my tone.

"Mm," was all I said back, then managed to give him a strained smile. "Thank you for...trying to help. I...I appreciate it." It was a struggle to get the words out, because I am not really a 'thank you' sort of person. But Klaus wasn't a sit-up-all-night-to-help-someone-else sort of person, so I figured it was only fair that we both act ridiculously out of character.

"You're welcome," Klaus replied, and followed it immediately with "And if you ever mention this to anyone, I will joyfully rip your throat out. Over and over again, since you won't die from it." He flashed an overly bright smile to drive home the threat.

I snorted, pleased that he was back to behavior I could understand. "Duly noted," I responded, then turned to go back upstairs. This time he didn't call me back for anything, so I made it back to my room without further incident.

I sat down on the edge of my bed, looked down at my book, realized abruptly that I was totally exhausted, and that the idea of sleep actually sounded  _good_. I was a little worried about further nightmares, but after a quick inspection of my feelings, I burrowed under the covers, willing to risk it.

I was out like a light barely ten minutes later, and through some miracle managed to sleep through the night.


	28. Chapter 28

" **Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime."**

* * *

Ezra stared up at the ceiling, knowing he needed to get up and join everyone else downstairs, but really not wanting to.

Between all the ridiculously awful things that had happened yesterday, he was just not in the mood for dealing with people. At all. His sister had been kidnapped by some random whackjob. Except it most likely hadn't been a random whackjob and had instead most likely been someone sent by their uncle. He'd been shot with an arrow yesterday while trying to help Rebekah keep Hayley safe. Except he hadn't just been shot with an arrow, he'd been shot with an arrow  _through the chest_. Barely two inches from his heart. The far-too-familiar pain had brought back a cascade of memories. Of Sirena, her smile, her laughter, her bright eyes. The taste of her lips, the softness of her skin, the silkiness of her hair.

The psychotic glee she'd shown when she'd methodically carved his still-beating heart out of his chest and cut it up into little pieces in front of him.

Yeah, those were memories he would've preferred to have kept buried.

Although, he had to admit, they were never far from his mind. It was always a darkness in his thoughts and bearing, a stain that seeped into everything he thought or did, even if he wasn't consciously aware of it.

And yes, he was healed up now, from both Sirena's torture and the arrow yesterday, and yes, Zoe was perfectly safe and right downstairs, exhausted and a little banged up but otherwise fine. But that didn't really make him feel much better, all things considered. Throw in the mystery of the murdered motel clerk and whatever the hell Klaus was doing to overthrow Marcel and destroy the witches and Ezra really did think that sleeping the day away would be a good course of action. Or non-action, as the case may be. Whatever.

As it turned out, though, whether he decided to get up or not wasn't  _really_  his decision. One second he was staring up at the ceiling, half-heartedly admiring the fact it was painted like a sunrise, the next second his door was being thrown open and Klaus was coming in, a sketchbook tucked under his arm and a thick phonebook in his other hand.

Ezra bolted upright and snatched his dagger from the bedside table out of habit, springing to his feet before the Original had come even three feet into the room.

Klaus paused mid-step and arched a brow at the blade. "Expecting someone else?"

Ezra took a very deliberate deep breath, struggling to calm his inner wolf, who was snarling at the sudden intrusion.  _Threat_ , his wolf growled.  _Intrusion. Rival. Threat._ "It's customary to knock," he told Klaus through gritted teeth.

Klaus gave an infuriating smirk. "In one's own house?" he remarked. "I don't think so."

 _Threat_ , his wolf repeated doggedly, followed by  _Kill._

 _Enough_ , Ezra snarled back, and his wolf subsided. Outloud to Klaus, he said, "Fair enough." Then he frowned at what he was carrying. "Did you need something?"

"I need a great many things," Klaus replied. "Most of which you cannot provide any help with."

Ezra carefully set the dagger down, figuring that if Klaus was going to continue being a condescending asshole, then it was maybe better if Ezra wasn't holding any sort of weapon he would be tempted to use. "And you came to pester someone who can't help you because...?"

Klaus gave a wide smirk. "I didn't say you couldn't help me with  _anything_ ," he responded, "just that you can't be of much use for  _most_  of the things I need. Try to keep up."  
  
Ezra took a large step away from where he'd set his dagger down, since the temptation to use it was growing by the second. "Get to the point," he said to Klaus. "I'm not feeling very patient today."

Klaus narrowed his eyes, as if seeing Ezra for the first time. "Yes, I can see that. You're looking a little tense today. Not sleep well?"

Ezra grunted, looking away. "Not really."

"Hm." A moment of thoughtful silence. "Neither did your sister."

Ezra's head snapped back up. "What?"

Klaus regarded Ezra for a few seconds. "Your sister had trouble sleeping last night," he told Ezra. "We spoke a bit after I returned home for the night. Well, more than a bit, really. Perhaps for almost half an hour."  
  
Ezra did not like the idea of Zoe spending any sort of time with Klaus  _at all_ , much less talking to him for any prolonged period of time. "What did you talk about?" he asked, trying and most likely failing to sound unconcerned.

Klaus, surprisingly, gave a short bark of laughter. "You should see the look on your face," he snickered. "Are you worried I tried to steal her virtue?"

Ezra snatched up the dagger again in the blink of an eye and was turning it over and over again in his hand, the implied threat loud and clear. "Did you?"

Klaus shook his head, still looking amused. "No," he said. "And since you look decidedly murderous about the topic in general, I'll do my best to avoid mentioning such things in the future."

"That's probably a good idea," Ezra agreed. Zoe was more than capable of looking after herself, but Ezra was her brother and he had all the accompanying big brother instincts; his wolfside took those sorts of things even  _more_  seriously, so to say he was protective of Zoe was a  _massive_  understatement. It was like saying that the Pacific Ocean was a few drops of water.

"We spoke of her abduction," Klaus told him.

That answer was so unexpected that Ezra actually dropped his dagger, his fingers simply losing hold on it from the numb shock that was suddenly coursing through his body. "What?" he demanded. "She talked about it? With  _you_?"

"No need to sound so outraged," Klaus chastised. "I can think of several people who would have been worse to confide in. Don't you agree?"

Ezra couldn't think of a good response to that, which was likely for the best since all that came out when he opened up his mouth was a sound that sounded somewhat like "Grrrahgnnnzz."

Klaus raised both eyebrows and seemed to be containing some sort of amused response. "How eloquently put. I shall have to record that for the sake of posterity."

Ezra flipped the Original off before he could think better of it, then took a series of quick steadying breaths before daring to speak again. "You spoke with her about her abduction," he repeated, trying to not sound like he was on the verge of completely losing his shit. The idea of Zoe alone with Klaus had already been driving him nearly insane with worry. That his twin had  _confided_  in the the  _Original hybrid_...for the love of God, what had she been thinking?

"We did," Klaus said, giving Ezra a funny look, as if somehow sensing how close he was to flipping. "I wasn't doing it for any sort of advantage on her or you," the Original added, watching Ezra's face carefully.

Ezra clenched his jaw. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you."  
  
Klaus shrugged. "You can believe me or not, it's entirely up to you. But having her preoccupied with what had happened would have impacted her ability to focus on our plans, so I needed to help her move past it. To that effect, I've come up with these." He passed Ezra the sketchbook he'd been holding.

Ezra took it, surprised, and slanted Klaus a questioning look. "What...?"

"Some rough sketches I did," the hybrid explained. "Based on the general description your sister gave me on her attacker, I was able to do five sketches of what he may look like. I had ten," he added, "but I already presented the lot of them to your sister and she narrowed it down to those five." He nodded to the sketchbook. "It isn't much to go on, but if you want the man who tried to take your sister, he looks something like one of those sketches."

Ezra was so overwhelmed that for a moment he could do was stare. Finally, he managed to get his tongue working again. Mostly. Sort of. "I, uh..." he stammered. "That's...this is..." he shook his head. " I really...don't know what to say," he managed at last. "This is...incredible." He swallowed hard. "Thank you."

"I'm not doing it for you," was Klaus's careless response. "Or your sister. I just need the two of you focused completely on our plans for Marcel and the witches, that's all. Better to resolve this matter as soon as possible so that you're not pulled between two obligations."

Ezra smothered a smile; he knew a deflection of gratitude when he heard one. Zoe had practically turned them into an art form; she had never been able to accept someone's gratitude at face-value, and instead felt the need to brush it off or twist it into something else. He knew arguing the point wouldn't help anything, so he just nodded. "Thank you," he repeated firmly.

Klaus rolled his eyes and shrugged, then tossed the phone book across the room.

Ezra caught it out of the air just before it smacked into his shoulder. "And this is for...?"

"Following up leads, of course. I assume you'll want to find this man eventually, and tear him to pieces. It's amazing how helpful a phone directory can be in that regard."

Ezra rolled his eyes and tossed the phone book down onto his bed, and set the sketchbook down on his bedside table with more care. "I have yet to meet a phone book that's worth the trouble of navigating it. But thanks anyway."

Klaus shrugged, looking thoroughly untroubled. "How you go about it is of no consequence to me. Now, on to other matters." Klaus brushed a speck of lint from his sleeve. "I'm off to the bayou to clean up that mess of bodies left over from last night and I'd like some company."

Ezra blinked in surprise. "What's the hurry?" he asked curiously. "And shouldn't you let Sophie have the bodies?" he added. "Assholes or not, they are members of her coven. There are probably rituals she wants to perform for them or something."

Klaus brushed all this aside with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Marcel got word of the witches' deaths. More importantly, he got word that the killings looked like werewolf kills. Since he has a fairly strict anti-werewolf policy in place, he's decided to investigate."  
  
"Oh." Ezra ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that's...not so good."  
  
"No," Klaus agreed dryly. "It's really not. So we need to deal with it before he can trace things back to Hayley and the baby."

"And you want me to tag along because...?"

Klaus shrugged. "No reason in particular. Just thought you might appreciate some fresh air, a chance to take in the sights."

"Uh-huh." Ezra crossed his arms. "I've been taking in plenty of sights since Zoe and I came into town."

"Oh, come on," Klaus said. "A nice little jaunt in the bayou, what could it possibly hurt?"  
  
"It could hurt quite a lot, actually," Ezra remarked. "My last little 'jaunt in the bayou', as you so nicely put it, ended with an arrow stabbing through my chest."  
  
Klaus rolled his eyes. "It's not like it could have killed you."

"Whether it's fatal or not is besides the point," Ezra snapped in annoyance. "I don't take well to being impaled, Klaus. So take a fucking hint and drop the subject."

A long, long stretch of silence while Klaus regarded him with an unreadable expression, somewhere between irritation and bafflement.

"What?" Ezra asked, aggravated. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing," Klaus said, shrugging. "It doesn't matter. Look," he went on, "I've tried asking nicely, but this isn't really up for debate. You'll be coming with me to meet with Marcel. End of discussion."  
  
Ezra crossed his arms. "You could have just said that from the start," he said grumpily, ignoring how his inner wolf was snarling and roaring over being given orders.


	29. Chapter 29

" **Feeling lost, crazy, and desperate belongs to a good life as much as optimism, certainty, and reason."**

* * *

I leaned back in my armchair, watching Rebekah and Hayley chatting as we waited for Klaus and my brother to get back from whatever the hell it was that they were doing.

"I don't care if we have to get you a leash," Rebekah was saying insistently, "that was your _last_ trip to the Bayou. What is it with you and those wolves, anyway?"

"I feel like we're connected somehow. I don't know." Hayley gave a helpless shrug. "Maybe it's just some pipe dream that I have of finding any real family out there. But sometimes, when I feel like it's me against the world, it keeps me going."  
  
Rebekah gave the pregnant woman a sympathetic look and poured her a drink of bourbon.

Hayley just gave her a look and rested a hand pointedly on her belly.

"Oh," Rebekah said, recalling that pregnant girls can't have alcohol, "right. Well," she went on, downing Hayley's bourbon in one go before pouring one for me and then another for herself, "if you ask me, family is a pain in the behind."  
  
Hayley just rolled her eyes, saying nothing.

"And as for being in it alone," Rebekah continued, "how dare you? I don't ruin a perfectly fabulous pair of boots traipsing through the Bayou for just anyone."

"Not to mention the part where you and Ezra got shot," I felt obligated to point out, sipping at my bourbon and trying not to make face.

"And there was that," Rebekah agreed.

Hayley finally cracked a smile. It was tiny, but it was there.

Rebekah beamed back and downed her second bourbon.

Klaus came in a few seconds after she began pouring another round and she jumped in surprise, then let out an exclamation of relief. "Nik! Finally! What-"

Her question was cut off by the very welcome sight of Elijah strolling the door behind Klaus, wearing a wide grin that made his mood at returning easily apparent. Rebekah wasted no time in running across the room and tackling him in a fierce hug. Elijah returned it without objection, then released his sister, taking a moment to smile at Hayley, who smiled shyly back before quietly excusing herself from the room.

 _Well_ , I thought, _isn't that interesting_. I decided to ponder it at another time, however. "Welcome back to the land of living," I said in congratulations to Elijah. "Or living undead, at least," I amended, waving to my brother distractedly as he trudged in behind Elijah, looking worn out.

Ezra came over to me immediately and wrapped me in a hug, taking a moment in inhale my scent in a way that let me know how close to the surface his wolf was. I rubbed his back in steady soothing motions before kissing him on the cheek. "Welcome home," I murmured.

"What a day," was all he said back before pulling away and collapsing on the couch beside me. "If I never have to see Big Auggie's Bayou Bar again, I will die happy."

"A bar?" I repeated, puzzled. "Why were you at a bar?"

Ezra slanted a less-than-pleased look towards Klaus. "Ask our benevolent dictator," he grumbled.

I turned to face Klaus but didn't have a chance to ask anything because Elijah was coming over and my wolf-side was getting skittish underneath my skin.

"Zoe, wasn't it?" Elijah regarded with me a mixture of curiosity and gratitude. "I wasn't expecting to see you again, and certainly not under these circumstances, but thank you for all your help."  
  
"I, uh..." I struggled to think of something to say. "You don't need to thank me," I said at last, trying not to look right at him because he was a little too handsome and it was distracting in the extreme. "I mean, Rebekah just asked me to help, and I said okay. It's no big deal."

"It is to me," he said simply, and then he was gone, headed in the direction Hayley had gone in. I wondered again what was there between the two of them. I hadn't been here from day one, but all everyone seemed to say was how devoted Elijah was to protecting Hayley and her baby. And yet Hayley was Klaus's ex-girfriend, and carrying Klaus's hybrid child. So where exactly did Elijah fit in, exactly? Was he simply dedicated to providing for his younger's brother's paramour and child? Or was it more...personal, for him?

In any case, once he finished saying whatever it was he'd needed to say to Hayley, Elijah gathered us all together in the study to re-hash everything everyone had learned in the past few hours.

"Everything that brought us here to New Orleans was a lie," Elijah said. "This story that Sophie Deveraux fabricated, this struggle for control of the French Quarter, this war between vampires and witches, wasn't over territory at all, this was over _Davina_."

"The witch girl?" I asked, surprised. "Is she really that powerful?"

"She is," Elijah said with a nod. "But it isn't simply about power." He went on to explain the Harvest and what he knew of the Reaping that followed, and told us about the sacrifices the New Orleans conven had made, the murders of the three young witches. The Klaus pitched in with what he'd learned about how the witches had driven Camille's brother Sean insane in order to distract Father Kieran from interfering in the Harvest, and I couldn't help but notice the fury in his every word. Then Elijah took over again, and explained how one of the girls sacrificed had been Sophie's niece, Monique.

"Eight months ago, Sophie Deveraux and her sister Jane-Anne lost everything," he told them. "Now, four months after that, a young pregnant girl wanders into their restaurant. Suddenly, all hope is renewed. Jane-Anne actually sacrificed her life so that her sister can use you to find Davina. If Sophie Deveraux is successful in capturing Davina, she can return Jane-Anne's daughter back to life. We thought we'd come here to wage a war for power. This is about _family_. In order to return her niece to life, Sophie Deveraux will fight to the death. That makes her more dangerous than anyone."

"Not necessarily," Ezra countered. "She's not the the only one willing to fight to the death, and I can't help but notice that five out of the six people in this room _can't be killed_. That gives us a rather significant advantage, don't you think?"

"But it's Hayley who matters most to us," Elijah argued. "And it is her and her unborn child they will target to get to us."

"Not to mention the fact that Hayley and Sophie are still linked," I added, frowning. "A link like that can cause all sorts of trouble for us, since it goes both ways."

"We'll have to come up with a way to negate that bond as soon as possible," Elijah agreed. "For now, just be on the lookout for anything unusual."

Ezra snorted. "We're in the Big Easy, in the middle of a three-way supernatural war over a witch girl who wants nothing to do with any of it. 'Unusual' seems like a relative term."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Must you debate _everything_?"

"Yes," Ezra replied easily, "I really must."

I smacked my brother on the arm before standing up and stretching. "Okay, well, we'll all keep our eyes open while we come up with our next move. Now, if no one minds, I need to go run a few errands. I'll be back in a little while."

"Errands?" Rebekah echoed, looking confused. "What errands could you possibly have, it's the middle of the night!"

"Just stuff," I said vaguely.

"Stuff to do with finding your kidnapper?" Klaus asked, arching an eyebrow at me.

I glared at him. "If you didn't want me to go looking for him," I snapped, "you shouldn't have made me those sketches."

Klaus shrugged. "I never said I didn't want you searching for him. But don't you think we have more pressing matters to attend to?"  
  
"Like what?" I said, crossing my arms. "Sitting around and waiting for Marcel or the coven to make their next move? Face it," I insisted, "there's nothing we can do right now until we know more. I might as well put the time to good use and track down the asshole who tried to kidnap me."

"Technically," Rebekah pointed out, "he _did_ kidnap you."  
  
"And I escaped," I snapped.

She shrugged. "Still, his original attempt at abduction was successful. What makes you think round two will go any better for you?"

"Because I'll be on my guard now," I replied. "Besides, I'm also extremely ticked off over it, which gives me an edge."

"Wait a moment," Elijah interjected. "You were kidnapped? When was this?"

"The other night," I said, trying to play it off dismissively. "Whenever that street festival was, with the music. I was tailing Davina and suddenly some guy walloped me over the head and stuffed me into the back of a van."

"While you were following Davina?" He frowned worriedly. "It could be connected to the witches somehow. You should proceed with caution."

I rolled my eyes. "My God, people, relax. I'm not a toddler. I can look after myself." I turned to Ezra, who had spent some time with me going over the sketches Klaus had done; we'd eventually narrowed it down to one visage in particular. "Do you want to come?"

"I am not letting you track down your kidnapper by yourself," was his immediate response, and he stood up. "And this guy more than likely has nothing to do with the witches," he added almost as an afterthought.

"True enough," I agreed. "Could've been a whackjob our uncle hired." I shrugged. "In either case, we'll find out what he knows and then get rid of him. It's all pretty straightforward."  
  
"Until someone clubs you over the head again, anyway," Klaus remarked with a smirk.

I resisted the urge to throw something heavy at him and headed for the front door, marveling at how completely annoying he could be. It was the little brother in him, I figured; he was so used to aggravating his siblings that it was second nature to him now.

"We'll be back in a few hours," I called over my shoulder and then Ezra and I were stepping outside and heading for the rental car Rebekah had picked up for us. It was a dark blue Chevy Cruze that looked completely unassuming and wouldn't draw much attention from anyone at all, which was exactly what we wanted.

I slid into the driver's seat and pulled the folded up sketch out of my pocket. I peered at it intently for a moment, then passed it my brother.

"I've already seen it a hundred times," was his instant response, but he took it and looked it over again anyway before handing it back.

"Any ideas for where to look first?" I questioned, folding the paper back up and putting it in my pocket again before starting up the car and pulling out of the plantation house driveway.

"Well," Ezra said after a moment of silent driving, "do you know how long he took driving after he snatched you? We could use that to get an idea for how far the warehouse was from the street fair."

I frowned, because it was true enough that I hadn't been able to remember where exactly the warehouse had been. I'd been walking for so long after escaping that I'd completely lost track of time and distance. "I'm not sure," I said uncertainly. "I think I was unconscious for part of it." Another idea occurred to me. "Where did you guys pick me up?"

Ezra chewed on his lower lip. "Somewhere on Almonaster, I think? I was still pretty out of it myself," he added apologetically. "I didn't snap out of it until Rebekah almost ran you over and said 'oh, hey, isn't that your sister in the middle of road?'."

I gave a snort of laughter. I couldn't help it. The mental picture his words conjured up was too amusing. "Wish I'd been there."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Technically, you were."

I just shook my head and focused my attention on the traffic. It was the middle of the night so it wasn't too bad in some places, but certain parts of the city were closed to cars after dark so I had to take a few detours before finally making it to the general area where they'd found me. Since Almonaster was a ridiculously long avenue that stretched across the city, pinpointing a specific spot could be tricky.

"Over there," Ezra said at last as we passed a spot that looked familiar. "I remember that signpost. We passed it just after we found you."

I pulled a quick u-turn and pulled over onto a nearby sidestreet and parked the car, making sure to set the alarm in case any enterprising young car thieves thought a blue Cruze was good pickings. Ezra double-checked to make sure he had his daggers in easy reach under his jacket before stepping out and looking around.

"The scent trail's going to be pretty faint." he remarked worriedly as we walked back to the main street. "A lot of people have come by since then."

"But all in cars," I pointed out. "Most people aren't on foot in this part of town. So hopefully my scent is still lingering around enough for us to track it back to the warehouse."   
  
Werewolves, while not exactly bloodhounds, still have very highly developed olfactory senses. We were planning to locate my scent from when I'd been wandering around and follow it back to where I'd been coming from, the warehouse.

I wasn't sure what exactly we'd find once we located the warehouse, but I couldn't deny that there were quite possibly any manner of clues just sitting around. I was beginning to suspect that the oil on the gag rag had been deliberate, in an attempt to mask my sense of smell, which meant that my kidnapper's own scent was distinctive enough for him to go to the trouble of masking it. Even knowing I was a wolf it was a significant measure to take; most people's scents are unique, but in small, subtle ways. Identifying one out of the almost four hundred thousand people in New Orleans would have been virtually impossible. Which led me to conclude that his scent was so unique that I couldn't possibly mistake it for anyone else. So if I could just find something in the warehouse with his scent on it...well, it would make finding him that much easier.

In any case, we managed to locate my own scent easily enough. Well, Ezra did, at least. Werewolves have trouble identifying their own scents, and I was no particular exception. I knew we were in the right spot, but that was likely because it looked familiar, whereas Ezra took a few careful measured sniffs then nodded. "It was here," he said, then started off down the road.

The problem with our plan, I mused as we trekked down the road, was that it involved hoofing it all the way across town until we found the warehouse. The downside of tracking by scent was that it's not really something you can do while in a car. It's a boots-on-the-ground sort of thing, I suppose. We spent almost two hours following my trail back from where Ezra had picked it up. Eventually, what felt like years later, we reached an intersection that looked more familiar than the rest.

"Down this way," I said, turning onto a smaller deserted street that according to the street sign was called Chickasaw. "It's over here."

We went a couple more blocks, then paused behind an anachronistic telephone booth.

"There," I said, pointing across the street to an ordinary-looking warehouse. "It's that one, I'm sure of it."

Ezra squinted at it. "I can't make out the sign," he said at last, shaking his head. "Paint's too old and faded."  
  
I shrugged. "I doubt it still belongs to the original owner, anyway. And even if it does I wouldn't be surprised if the dude who grabbed me just broke in and made himself at home. He seemed like the type."

Ezra considered that, then nodded. "What do you want to do?" he asked after a moment of contemplative silence as we watched the warehouse.

"Break in and kill him?" I offered hopefully.

"Thought we were supposed to find out who sent him," Ezra remarked dryly.

"Oh, sure, we can ask him," I replied easily. "So long as I can kill him after, I don't care what we do beforehand."

Ezra snorted. "You're spending too much time with Klaus," he muttered, before unsheathing a dagger and moving to cross the street. "Alright, let's do this."


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update ahead of schedule in celebration of the holidays! Happy Holidays, everyone! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

" **The only way I survive is to never stop moving. I make sure I'm always surrounded by others, so I won't have time to think and end up imploding like a dying star."**

* * *

We managed to break into the warehouse without too much trouble. A padlock and chain isn't really much of a hindrance when you have werewolf strength. Ezra pulled apart the metal links with minimal effort and we strolled right inside. Stealthily, of course.

But our stealth turned out to be unnecessary, because the warehouse was empty. Or at least, empty of our target. There were a few items scattered around, like the pieces of the chair I'd broken during my escape and the oil-stained rag that had been stuffed in my mouth. The chains that had held me were gone, though, so my kidnapper had been back to retrieve those, at least.

Ezra's face took on a decidedly dark edge as he scented the air. I knew what he was smelling, because I could smell it, too, though only very faintly because the scents were mine. My fear, my anger. My pain. Those sorts of things don't seem like they would have a scent to them, but werewolves are surprisingly sensitive creatures, especially when they're closely bonded to the person in question.

"He hurt you," Ezra growled, eyes flashing blue as his wolf surged. That my brother was growling didn't trouble me. That his eyes were flashing blue rather gold, however, _did_.

Most werewolves, myself included, display gold eyes when wolfing out. My brother, though...well, his situation is a little bit different. He and his wolf, while obviously together in the whole package that is Ezra, have a unique sort of separation between them. I'm not sure how it happened, but it's almost like he and his wolf are two separate personalities, two different identities. It hadn't always been that way, but I think something went a little wonky back when Sirena tortured him, and his wolf side sort of became a coexisting identity _within_ my brother rather than simply an extension of his own self. Like a split-personalities-from-trauma sort of thing. In any case, gold eyes means my brother is wolfish but in control. Blue means he's slipping, that his _wolf_ is more in charge.

"And I'm fine now," I assured him, being very careful to keep my voice easygoing and relaxed.

Another growl.

"I'm fine," I repeated emphatically. "Now stop being a Neanderthal and help me find _his_ scent."

Ezra growled a little more, then subsided, his eyes fading from blue to gold, then back to their normal shade. "Sorry," he mumbled after a few seconds of quiet.

"Nothing to be sorry for," I told him, and meant it. "Now, seriously. Help me sniff out this bastard."

We circled around a bit before locating a glove that had been left behind underneath a pile of trash in the corner. We would have completely missed it, if not for the smell coming off it so strongly.

"This reeks," Ezra announced, picking it up by his fingertips and making a face.

"Like three day old roadkill," I agreed, wrinkling my nose.

"Is that anyway to talk about someone's personal effects?" a familiar voice called out from the door. "Keep up with that sort of cruel behavior and I might cry."

We whirled around and I snarled as I saw him standing in the doorway. My kidnapper.

He gave a wide smile and took a couple more steps inside. "Long time no see, Miss Storme," he said, giving a little bow that looked odd on a man so large. "I see you've brought your brother with you. Thank you for that thoughtful consideration. Getting the two of you at once is more than I'd ever hoped for."

"Who are you?" Ezra growled. "Who sent you?"

The plain-looking man gave a careless shrug. "Does it matter?"

" _Tell us!_ " my brother snarled, eyes flashing gold.

The man put up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, no need to get so feisty." His smile took on a sharp edge. "Your uncle sent me, of course. As for my identity? My name is Patrick Evans, and I will be your executioner tonight."

I pulled out a dagger and made sure to adjust my footing in case he decided to attack suddenly. "You'll have a hard time with killing us, seeing as we can't die."

He gave that indifferent shrug again. "True enough, but the sentiment is the same in the end. As soon as I deliver you to your uncle, you'll be as good as dead. Or just wishing you were," he added.

Ezra didn't bother waiting for him to say anything else. He just hurled a dagger at him. The blade arced through the air, but Patrick Evans dodged to the side, moving more quickly than I would have expected for a man of his size. But Ezra is faster, and he'd already tossed out another dagger, and this one hit home, slamming into Patrick's shoulder with a meaty thud.

The smell that arose from the wound was enough to make me and my brother both gag and retch. Death. The smell was death, like rotting roadkill in the sun and mildew that hasn't seen the light of day. Like a morgue with no refrigeration, or body that's been waiting to be found for far too long. Death and darkness and decomposition.

"Oh my God," I said, my jaw dropping. "You're a revenant."

A revenant, in case you don't know, is an animated corpse that has been, duh, brought back to life. The word itself comes from the Latin _reveniens_ , which means "returning".  
  
Revenants are different from vampires, though, in that they don't drink blood to stay 'alive'. No, a revenant is deader than dead, and is kept 'alive' only through very dark magic. They're not even remotely alive, not in the ways vampires are. They are honestly just a person that's been brought back to life from whatever state of decay they'd been in; Patrick must have only been dead for a few weeks, since he didn't look too terrible, all things considered. But still. Since you couldn't really kill someone who was already very dead, this complicated things considerably.

Ezra and I had only encountered a true revenant once before, years ago in Chicago. Things had, of course, gone completely to shit, and in the end we'd had to resort to literally tearing the sorcerer responsible apart limb from limb to stop the spell.

Since this revenant was evidently under the control of our uncle, that method was not going to cut it. Even negating the fact we'd need to be close enough to our uncle kill him and break his hold on the black magic, our uncle had made himself immortal as well, rendering any attempts to kill him completely moot.

"Oh, this sucks," I said.

Patrick gave another wide smile. "I can't say that I'm thrilled about being dragged back to this crapsack life," he said conversationally, "but there are some perks to being dead and walking."

"Such as?" I asked warily, taking several careful steps backwards, my gaze never leaving him as I watched and waited for him to make a move.

"I don't need to eat," he remarked. "I can if I want to, of course, but it's not quite the same. I can't taste anything," he went on, "and my body can't digest food anymore, so I have to throw it all back up again. Which causes pieces of my throat to slough off and-"  
  
I gagged again. "I get the picture," I choked out.

Patrick tried to take advantage of my momentary opening, but Ezra was ready for him. He moved to intercept Patrick immediately, slamming into him hard enough to send the larger man staggering back despite the large weight and musculature difference. Not that my brother isn't strong; he's a werewolf and certainly not scrawny. But we were up against a revenant the size of Dwayne Johnson, for crying out loud. It was like tackling a mountain.

Still, my brother is strong, and he was clearly feeling pretty pissed off, so he tackled Patrick and the mountain of muscle stumbled back, looking surprised at the force of the impact. But the surprise didn't last long, and he retaliated by picking up my brother and hurling him across the room. The entire room. My brother crashed into the far wall of the warehouse and I bolted for cover, ducking behind a stack of packing crates and pulling out my phone.

I dialed the first number that popped into my brain and prayed that the person on the other end would pick up.

"Are we playing hide and seek?" Patrick asked, sounding amused. "How delightfully childish of you.  
"  
"Fuck you," I snarled and then jumped back fast as the boxes I was crouching behind were shoved over on top of me. I managed to avoid getting crushed underneath them, but only barely. And then Patrick was there, coming towards me faster than he should have been able to move.

"You've reached Rebekah," the voicemail message told me. "Please leave a message and-"  
  
I ended the call then hit redial, making a quick sprint for another stack of boxes. "Come on, come on, come on," I muttered as the phone rang again. "Pick up the damn phone."

Patrick gave a great booming laugh and tossed one of the busted shipping crates in my direction. I leapt sideways and crashed into a pile of abandoned ventilation materials. I tried to struggle to my feet, tripped over an air duct, cursed up a storm, then snarled as the call rolled over to voicemail again. This time I left a message. It said "What the hell are you doing that's so important you can't pick up your fucking phone when I'm about to die?!".

A little melodramatic maybe, but that's how I was feeling.

Patrick, meanwhile, was just pursuing me at his own idle pace, not even seeming to be in a particular hurry. It was like he knew he'd get me one way or the other and for now was just enjoying the chase.

I was abruptly and completely so totally done with this. I looked across the warehouse and saw that Ezra had managed to recover enough to stand, and he was wearing a furious expression that no doubt matched my own.

I snarled at Patrick, and let the shift wash over me. I fell forward onto four paws and wasted no time in lunging towards Patrick. My jaws latched onto his forearm rather than his throat when he blocked my attack, and I nearly let go from the terrible taste of dead flesh. But I hung on, distracting him from the _real_ attack.

My brother came up from behind and stabbed his dagger into Patrick's spine without any hesitation whatsoever. Patrick gasped and staggered. Because while a revenant doesn't truly feel pain, a hit to the spine is nothing to sneeze at, even if you're already a dead man. The magic would eventually patch the wounds enough for him to function again, but for now he was going to be out of action.

Or at least, that's what we'd hoped. Somehow, Patrick managed to recover enough strength to dislodge me from his arm and send me sailing through the air to crash into another stack of packing crates. My brother, similarly, was tossed away without remorse; he crashed into a support pillar with a sharp cracking sound that made me wince.

Patrick couldn't stand up straight and was instead hunched over, his face an expression of agony, his eyes mad with anger and rage. "This isn't over," he warned as he backed up unsteadily towards the door. "I'll find the two of you again, and then nothing either of you do will stop me. Just you wait and see." And then he was gone, lurching out the door to God knows where.

I managed to squirm free from the boxes I'd gotten trapped under and quickly padded across the warehouse to check on my brother. I didn't bother changing back to my human shape because honestly I felt more comfortable in my wolfskin for now. In any case, I reached my brother and nosed at him with my snout, giving a low whine of concern.

Ezra said "Ugh" and pulled himself into sitting position, wincing as he stretched his shoulders. "That...really hurt," he said at last, his breathing hitching in his throat from the pain.

I gave another whine and nuzzled against him, trying to offer comfort.

Ezra gave a soft huff of laughter and wrapped his arms around me, ruffling my fur affectionately. "I'll be fine, Z, don't worry." He pulled back a little to look me in the face. "How 'bout you? Everything okay?"

I gave a wolf sneeze and nipped at his chin.

"Alright, alright." He held his hands up. "You're fine, I should worry about my own injuries, I get it."

I gave a wolfy grin and gently tugged on his sleeve with my teeth.

"Time to go home?" he guessed.

I gave a small yip of confirmation and wagged my tail a bit before heading for the door, making sure to avoid the thick dark pungent blood on the ground from where Patrick's wounds had dripped.

Ezra took one last look around the warehouse to make sure we hadn't missed anything crucial, then followed me out. I stayed in wolf shape for the entire two hour walk back to the car. I probably shouldn't have, but there was something about four legs and a long walk that made it really nice. Regrettably, when I changed back to get into the car and drive home, my clothes did not make the shift with me, and I was left standing buck naked in the middle of a random neighborhood.

My brother, of course, found this gut-bustingly hilarious, and laughed his ass off for a good ten minutes while I ducked into the car, overwhelmed by the awkwardness of it all. I considered throttling my twin, but decided that I wouldn't, since that would require me to get out of the car and I was, duh, still naked.

So I shouted at my brother to get his ass back in the car and drive us home; thankfully I'd had the foresight to give him the car keys and my phone had tumbled out of my pocket sometime after my call to Rebekah but before I'd shifted, so neither of those had vanished off to wherever my clothes had gone. Car keys and cell phones suddenly vanishing are the sorts of things that are hard to explain. That had never actually happened to me, but there was a first time for everything and with my streak of bad luck recently I wasn't going to take any chances.

In any case, we made it back to the Mikaelson plantation house soon enough, and my brother parked the car then tugged his jacket off and passed it back to me where I was crouching down in the backseat, taking full advantage of the tinted windows to hide.

"Thanks," I said, then wrapped myself up at best I could. It was a bit like wearing a leather bathrobe, and yes, it was awkward as hell. Ezra went inside the house first, then reported back that everyone else seemed to have either gone to bed already or gone back out. I seized my chance at once, and bolted inside and booked it up the stairs. I had almost made it back to my room, was really only a few steps away, when Elijah appeared out of nowhere, coming out of a room across the hall so suddenly that I nearly crashed into him.

I managed to stop myself from tripping over my own feet, but only barely. "E-Elijah," I stammered. "What...what are doing here? That's not what I meant," I corrected hastily. "I mean, you live here, obviously, in this house. I just, uh-"

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at me like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or check for injuries.

"Fine!" I said, a little too quickly and a little too loud. "Totally fine," I insisted in a lower voice, nodding firmly and very deliberately trying not to think about the fact I was standing almost-naked just a few feet away from a sinfully handsome vampire. "Really, really fine. Definitely."

He gave me a once-over, taking in my appearance. Which basically consisted of me wearing only a leather jacket that was wrapped a little too tight around my chest and went only to about mid-thigh. And did I mention the leather? And I was starting to sweat, too, which just made ten times more awkward and uncomfortable; I wanted nothing more than to crawl away and hide somewhere.

"Are you...naked?" he asked, his tone of voice some sort of cross between curious and horrified.

"I, uh...No!" I fussed with the lapels of the jacket and crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I'm wearing a jacket, duh." I gave a laugh that was possibly just a few octaves away from hysteria. "Not naked at all, definitely not."

"And...under the jacket?"

Lacking the mental capacity to come up with a plausible lie for why I was wearing only my brother's jacket in the middle of the night, I made a frustrated and panicky flailing motion, then remembered that I was supposed to be holding the jacket shut. I cursed and managed to wrap it around myself before it could totally fly open, and then made a mad dash for the door of my room before I could humiliate myself further. "Bye!" I chirped to Elijah, then slammed the door shut in his face.

A long silence, and then his voice came through the door, sounding puzzled but also amused. "Good night, Zoe."


	31. Chapter 31

" **One rarely falls in love without being as much attracted to what is interestingly wrong with someone as what is objectively healthy."**

* * *

I leaned against the closed door, trying to stop my heart from pounding itself out of my chest. Interacting with Elijah on a day-to-day basis was one thing. Crashing into him in a dangerous state of almost-nakedness was something else entirely. And it was definitely not something I was ready to handle with or think about.

I wasted no time in shucking off Ezra's jacket and pulling on some of my own clothes. I almost got fully dressed, then remembered that it was the dead of night and settled for some pajamas instead. I actually hadn't even owned a pair of pajamas until Ezra and I had moved in with the Mikaelsons but Rebekah had at some point decided to give me some sort of wardrobe makeover. Consequently, new clothing was sort of just appearing in my closet and dresser every now and again, usually with a note attached reading 'Wear this or else. Love, Rebekah'.

This time, it was a set of red silk pajamas. I'm not a huge fan of silk just because the texture is too satiny smooth for my taste and I feel like a fake when I'm wearing it, but even I had to admit that they were pretty nice. So I put them on and crawled into bed, wishing I could go back in time and leave a spare change of clothes in the car so I could have avoided that whole awkward mess.

I did finally manage to fall asleep, and woke up the next morning feeling fairly refreshed. A little sore from the fight with Patrick Evans the revenant, but otherwise fine. I quickly got dressed, throwing on an old Neil Young t-shirt and a pair of jeans, then went downstairs. When I went in search of someone to talk to, I discovered an interesting scene in the living room.

Elijah and Klaus were seated across from each other, pointedly not looking at one another and instead focusing on the books they were reading. Between them on the table was some poor dead woman who was bleeding all over the floor. Rebekah, meanwhile, was standing across the room, arms crossed with a peeved expression on her face.

"So, this is what you do the first time we're back together as a family?" Rebekah was saying to her brothers, looking thoroughly annoyed. "Vampire book club?"

Klaus didn't look up from his book. "Reading edifies the mind, sister. Isn't that right, Elijah?"

Elijah, likewise, didn't look away from his reading. "Yes, that's quite right, Niklaus."

Rebekah made a sound of exasperation. "And what's this business?" she demanded, waving a hand at the dead girl.

"This is a..." Elijah hesitated as he searched for the right word then waved a hand dismissively. "...peace offering."

Klaus gave a slight sigh. "I presumed, after so much time desiccating in a coffin, that my big brother might be a bit peckish."

"And _I_ explained to my little brother" Ezra countered in annoyance, "that forgiveness cannot be bought. I'd simply prefer to see a change in behavior that indicates contrition and personal growth."

Klaus rolled his eyes, but I couldn't help but notice the slight hint of guilt haunting his face.

"Not this nonsense," Elijah concluded, waving again at the dead body.

Klaus gave a sudden grin. "Well, I couldn't very well let her go to waste, could I? "

Rebekah looked like she was one short step away from throttling them both. "Well, I suppose I'll go fetch the rubbish bin, because she's staining a two hundred-year-old carpet."

Elijah blinked, then glanced down at the rug where the girl's blood has been dripping off the table. "Ah, yes."

Rebekah threw her hands up in the air. "Ugh, you two are unbelievable. Zoe, can you come help me find some cleaning supplies?"

I gave a little jump, startled that she'd noticed me lurking in the doorway. "Uh, yeah, sure." I crossed the room to follow after her, giving the dead body a wide berth.

"We'll need to get a trash can first, I suppose," Rebekah said after a moment, and we changed course to go outside and get one.

I wasn't sure how I felt about stuffing some poor dead woman into a trash can, but I was hardly going to say so out-loud. At least not yet. So I just bit my tongue and followed Rebekah.

"Grab those bags, will you?" she said, pointing to the plastic bags sitting on the shelf near the row of trashcans.

"No problem," I replied, snatching them up as Rebekah started dragging a trashcan back towards the house.

"So," Rebekah said as we trudged back, "I hear you came home in a state of moderate undress last night."

I tripped over a gopher hole and nearly face-planted into the lawn. "Wh-what?" I stammered, managing to regain my footing. "How did you-"

"Oh, please." She snorted. "Elijah mentioned it to me this morning when I came down. He asked if I knew who you were seeing and if it would be a risk to our plans." She shook her head. "Honestly, I never would have guessed you were seeing someone; I'm not sure when you have the time."

I flushed bright red. "I-I'm not seeing anyone," I told her.

She made a disbelieving sound. "Single women don't come home without their clothes, Zoe."

She had a point there, so I struggled to come up with a good cover story. Telling her that I was a wolf-witch hybrid whose clothes sometimes vanished when I shifted back into human form was clearly not the right answer here. Figuring that a hook-up was obviously the best explanation since everyone seemed to think so already, I decided what the hell. "It was just some guy I met at a bar," I lied. "I met him when Ezra and I first got into town and we exchanged numbers and stuff in case we ever wanted to hook up." I shrugged, trying to play the part well. "He seemed like a nice enough guy, and I was feeling lonely last night after Ezra and I wrapped up our search so I went to meet up with him."

Rebekah raised her eyebrows expectantly. "And? Did you two have a fabulous time knocking boots?"

I wrinkled my nose. "No. He turned out to be an asshole. Wanted...well, he wanted me to do shit I wasn't comfortable with." I actually _had_ had a boyfriend like that once, years and years ago, so I drew on that experience to get my tone of voice right. "And when I said no, he got really pushy."  
  
"Did he force himself on you?" Rebekah demanded, dropping the trashcan and whirling to face me. "Because if so I will hunt him down and-"

"No, no, it's fine," I assured her hastily. "I kicked him in the nads and called my brother to come pick me up. He was actually hanging out just down the street and made it to me in record time. Anyway, I was in such a hurry to get the hell out of there I didn't bother to get my stuff, so I just left and borrowed Ezra's jacket to cover me til we got back here." I shrugged again. "It's really not much of a story," I said apologetically.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You promise he didn't hurt you?"

"I promise," I said, feeling guilty because I was lying to my vampire friend about an imaginary asshole and she believed me. I knew that if I ever had to tell her the truth she likely wouldn't be upset for very long, but still. It didn't sit well with me.

But Rebekah was ignorant of my inner turmoil so after another few moments of thought, she nodded. "Alright. I won't track him down and gut him. Now, let's go get rid of that body and scrub up the blood, shall we?"

I managed a weak smile. "Yeah, okay."

We traipsed back to the house, coming in through the side door in the kitchen.

"Listen," Hayley was saying to Elijah, who had apparently abandoned his book in favor of the werewolf girl's company, "I know I'm the only one in this house that actually drinks milk, but would it kill any of you to make sure it's on the grocery list?"

"Speaking of," Rebekah chimed in as we passed through the kitchen on our way back to the living room, "add bleach."

"And carpet powder," I added. "And maybe some incense to cover the smell?" I frowned as I trailed after Rebekah and got another look at the body, and the massive bloodstain on the heirloom rub. "Then again," I said doubtfully, "maybe we should just trash it all and be done with it."

The vampire crossed her arms and pursed her lips, surveying the situation with an aggravated expression. "My God," she grumbled, "What a disaster."

"The carpet?" I asked, "Or your family?"

She rolled her eyes. "The two aren't mutually exclusive." She heaved a sigh. "Here, help me lift the body. We'll carry it outside for now."

"And put it where?" I demanded, but went to pick up the woman's feet even as I objected.

"We'll toss it in the garden shed for now," Rebekah said, grabbing the other end of the body. "We can go bury it somewhere else once the sun goes down."

I wanted to point out that leaving a dead body in the garden shed for an entire day wasn't really such a grand idea, but figured she'd do it with or without me and at least this way I could make myself useful and stay in the loop.

We passed through the kitchen again on our way out, and of course Rebekah couldn't help but pitch in her two cents into Hayley and Elijah's conversation.

"I am all for it," the blonde Original said as we overhead Elijah remarking that something would need to be done about the witches. "As soon as they're unlinked," she added, referring to the spell that was still conecting Hayley and Sophie, "we get to leave this crap town. Who do we have to kill?"

Elijah seemed to consider this for a moment. "Probably no one," he said at last.

Rebekah snorted and continued dragging the body outside, nodding at me to grab a tarp that was sitting on top of a nearby table. Hayley, meanwhile, was giving Elijah a look of significant disbelief.

"Alright," Elijah amended, "potentially everyone."

I couldn't help it, I gave a small snort of laughter. Before I could actually get dragged into the conversation, though, I grabbed up the tarp Rebekah had wanted, made a vague flailing gesture to encompass our whole situation in general, and headed for the door.

I found Rebekah, sure enough, at the gardening shed. She was casually inspecting the inside, making sure there was enough room for the body. "We can put it behind those stacks of fertilizer," she said as I came over with the tarp. "Here, give me that."

I handed it over without objection, and she wasted no time in spreading it out on the ground and rolling up the body in it. "Shouldn't we put her somewhere she'll be found?" I couldn't help but say. "I mean, people are going to notice she's missing. Friends, family. Don't they deserve some closure?"

Rebekah rolled her eyes at me as she tied the tarp shut. "Honestly, Zoe, don't tell me you're soft-hearted about necessary deaths."  
  
"It was hardly necessary," I argued. "She died because Klaus wanted to share a snack with Elijah in an attempt to bribe him for forgiveness."

Rebekah shrugged. "Well, these things happen. Look," she went on, seeing the look on my face, "I am sorry about the girl, but it's not like I can ride herd on my brothers. I'm the baby of the family, remember? And the only girl left. They don't listen to me."

I grumbled some more, but in the end I knew she had a point. And it's not like my bitching was going to bring the girl back to life.

 _Back to life._ I shuddered as the thought of dead bodies returning to life reminded me of Patrick Evans. I made a mental note to track down his personal information at the next opportunity, as well as look up ways to deal with revenants without killing the warlock behind them.

In any case, we managed to finish wrapping up the body in the tarp and stuffed it very unceremoniously behind a stack of fertilizer and potting soil. I felt guilty, leaving the poor girl crammed away like garbage, but short of taking her somewhere remote and burying her myself, there wasn't much I could do.

"We'll take the body out to the bayou tonight, maybe," Rebekah said as we headed back to the house. "People get lost and go missing there all the time, so even if someone does eventually find the body they'll just think it was a nature hike gone wrong."

"Assuming she's decayed enough for the fang marks to no longer be visible," I muttered.

Rebekah shrugged. "We can mask the bite marks," she said dismissively. "For now, let's focus on the rug."

I sighed and followed after Rebekah as we rummaged around in the cabinets below the sink in search of cleaning supplies. In the end, we managed to find some sort of carpet shampoo and decided to go for it. I tugged on some bright pink rubber gloves while Rebekah put on a matching pair in yellow. Together we knelt down and went to work on the bloodstains.

* * *

Ezra rolled out of bed feeling like someone had dropped a house on him.

After he and Zoe had gotten in last night, he'd gone almost immediately to bed. He'd been beaten to hell from the fight with the revenant and exhausted in general. But despite the hours of sleep he'd gotten, he didn't feel particularly rested.

His body was a collection of aches and pains, and the ribs he'd cracked during the fight hadn't healed even halfway. He rubbed his face tiredly as he went over to the vanity mirror hanging above his dresser. He scowled as he saw the shadow of a bruise along one side of his jaw; it was annoying, he had to admit, and painful, but not surprising.

The revenant Patrick Evans had been ridiculously strong for a dead man walking, and his punches had felt like hits from a sledgehammer. And Evans had been quick for his size, too, more agile than Ezra had been expecting. And he'd been aggravatingly resilient. Ezra had needed to stab through the other man's spine just to get him to break off the fight. The attack had succeeded, of course, because even a dead guy with regenerative powers can't fight with spinal damage, but even getting that much of an edge over the revenant had been much harder than Ezra had anticipated.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and flipped off his reflection in the mirror, disliking how battered he looked. Shaking his head in disgust, he went over toe the closet and pulled out a fresh change of clothes. He took a quick shower and was just slipping into his clothes when a knock came on his door. Frowning, he shrugged into his shirt and went over to open it.

To his immense surprise, Klaus was standing in the hall.

Ezra eyed him warily. "Can I help you?" he asked cautiously.

"Not at the moment," Klaus replied. "But I can help you."

Ezra felt his eyebrows rise. "Help me?" he repeated disbelievingly. "With what?"

"Well," Klaus remarked, "I couldn't help but notice you and your sister's arrival last night. She certainly looked scandalous, bolting into the house half-nude like that."

Ezra had an immediate urge to lunge at the hybrid and tear his throat out, but refrained, reminding himself that Klaus was _probably_ not starting this conversation just to drive Ezra up the wall. Although with Klaus it was sort of hard to tell. "And?"

"Well, after the shock of seeing your twin in such spare garments wore off-"

Ezra bit down hard on his tongue to stop the growl growing in his throat from rumbling out.

"-it occurred to me that the two of you left to go looking for her attacker. So, how exactly did you two transition from hunting to date night? For that matter, did you find any leads on the attacker? Or did the two of you just bumble about until you were too bored to continue?"

Ezra's fury subsided as he realized what Klaus was doing. He was, in his own roundabout aggravating way, asking how their search had gone. He'd couched it in his usual jerkass behavior, but after a moment of careful assessment Ezra concluded that the sincerity at the heart of Klaus's questions was...well, sincere.

Huh. Who'd have thought.

"It went well enough," Ezra said carefully, knowing he needed to proceed with caution so as to not reveal too much about his and Zoe's true natures. "As we considered before, the would-be kidnapper was sent by our uncle; his assignment is to capture us and return us to our uncle."

"Whereupon he will shower you with affection and familial joyousness," Klaus drawled, rolling his eyes. "I trust you took care of him."

"Well...that's where things took a turn for the complicated."

Klaus narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

Ezra sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously before gesturing for Klaus to come into his room. "How much do you know about revenants?" he asked the Original, going over to his laptop to pull up the information he'd saved.

"I know that vampires are generally considered to be revenants," Klaus said after a moment, coming in and elbowing the door shut behind him. He frowned. "Is your sister's attacker a vampire?"  
  
Ezra shook his head. "Not quite." He clicked open some files. "Here, look." He pointed to the screen. "Revenants are similar to vampires, in that both groups are no longer alive in the traditional sense."  
  
"But revenants have already experienced death," Klaus continued, looking closely at the information on the screen. "And they've been brought back from beyond."  
  
"With magic," Ezra confirmed. "Very, very dark magic."  
  
"My mother was a dark practitioner," Klaus murmured, leaning around Ezra to scroll down the page. "It's possible the spell she used to make us vampires is similar to the magic used to revive the dead and turn them into revenants."

Ezra shrugged; the distinctions between certain spells and the different types of magic was more Zoe's speed than his. "It's possible," he said noncommittally. "In any case, the guy who grabbed Zoe is, or was, named Patrick Evans. I haven't found out much, but I did find an obituary from about two weeks ago." He tapped a few keys on the laptop and another page popped up. "See? He's been dead already for a while, but someone brought him back. Zoe and I are assuming the sorcerer responsible is our uncle; Evans said our uncle 'hired' him, and he reeked of the sort of bad magic our uncle is proficient at."

"How does one dispose of a revenant?" Klaus asked, straightening up and fixing Ezra in his sharp gaze. "I assume you could not eliminate Patrick Evans last night, which is why you're standing there looking like roadkill."  
  
Ezra glared at him. "I do not look like roadkill."

"Perhaps not road kill," Klaus allowed. "But you do look very grim."

Ezra heaved a sigh, too tired to be overly annoyed with the hybrid's harassment. "It's almost impossible to truly 'kill' a revenant in the traditional sense," he said at last. "They're already dead, after all. The only effectvie way Zoe and I discovered is to eliminate the sorcerer responsible for the spell. Their death causes the revival magic to unravel."  
  
"Wonderful," Klau said. "We'll just kill your uncle, then."  
  
Ezra shook his head. "'Fraid that's not gonna work."  
  
"And why not?" Klaus asked, his tone indicating that he was getting tired of this line of conversation.

"Because," Ezra said patiently, not intimidated by Klaus's dark glower, "Our uncle is immortal, same as me and Zoe. Nothing short of a tactical warhead is going to take him out, and it's better to not even try."

"He's just one man," Klaus scoffed.

"He's immortal," Ezra repeated firmly. "Besides, he has whole legions of devoted lackeys ready to jump at his call. They're very determined, and not to be trifled with." He rubbed at his chest, trying and failing to shunt aside painful memories of his time with Sirena and the aftermath.

Klaus gaze him a shrewd look, but didn't remark on his odd behavior. "Have it your way," he said at last. "If you think we can't take him out, then we'll not pursue that course of action any further for the time being." He glanced back at the laptop screen. "Patrick Evans, you said?"

"Yeah." Ezra shook his head. "From what I managed to find out, he was some sort of special ops guy once; Rangers or Recon or something like that. Then he was a merc for a bit, and then he was dead."  
  
"And now he's still dead, but causing us trouble." Klaus spread his arms dramatically. "What an exciting world we live in!"

Ezra snorted. "Look," he said, "did you need something, or did you really just come to check up on me?"

Klaus wrinkled his nose. "As a matter of fact," he admitted, "I was hoping you could do one small favor for me."

Typical. Ezra rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"Elijah needs me to accompany him on a trip to see Davina; as a result, I won't be available to protect Hayley until our errand is completed. And Zoe seems to have plans for searching out the person behind the murder of the motel clerk, so she's unavailable as well. Therefore, I was hoping you would help Rebekah keep an eye on her for me while I'm away."

Ezra blinked in surprise. "You want me to help your sister babysit Hayley?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes."

Ezra stared at him. "Seriously? Do you not remember how terrible we were at it last time?" He mimed firing a crossbow with his hands. "Rebekah and I were knocked down dead with poisoned arrows and Hayley was snatched right out from under us. And you're trusting us to look after her again?"

Klaus pursed his lips. "It's not like I have a wide selection of bodyguards to choose from," he replied testily. "Besides, you'll be secure here in the manor; I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to attack us here, even if they did manage to work out our location."

Ezra mulled it over, but in the end there wasn't much for him to argue with; he'd been planning to just stay here for the day anyway, to recover his strength and regroup from the fight with Evans yesterday. "Alright," he agreed at last. "I'll hang here with the girls. Just in case."

"Just in case," Klaus echoed with a faint smirk before turning and leaving the room.


	32. Chapter 32

" **Mysteries of attraction could not always be explained through logic. Sometimes the fractures in two separate souls became the very hinges that held them together."**

* * *

Ezra spent the majority day lounging around in the living room with Hayley, watching re-runs of General Hospital and eating cheddar popcorn until his inner wolf whined in protest. Rebekah spent half her time with them on the couch, complaining about all the stupid love triangles on the soap opera and the other half of the time wandering around the house while on the phone with Zoe, who seemed to be running into multiple dead-ends on her investigation into the murdered motel clerk.

After the conclusion of their latest soap opera binge, Hayley went up to her room and Rebekah slanted her phone so that Ezra could see the screen. "Your sister's coming home," she informed him, just in case he couldn't see the message. "She should be here in a little while."

He read the message again just to double-check, then smiled. The message itself was textbook Zoe, her snarky frustration coming across loud and clear even in simple text; he found himself feeling happy that she was on her way back, but also guilty about feeling happy, because she'd been looking into a murder that was important to her. His inner wolf, unsure what to make of those conflicting feelings, settled for giving a growling grumble before drifting back down into the shadowed recesses of his soul.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to thank Rebekah for letting him know, they heard a shout come from upstairs.

"Hayley!" Rebekah exclaimed in alarm, zooming off before Ezra could react.

He quickly followed suit, though, drawing on his wolf to give himself a boost in speed. He rushed up the stairs and down the hall just in time to hear Rebekah ask Hayley what was wrong.

"Hell if I know," the werewolf responded, looking at the drops of blood on her fingers from a wound on her neck that was already healed. "It felt like I was being stabbed."  
  
The three of them exchanged oh-crap looks as the implications of that sunk in.

"Something must have happened to Sophie," Ezra said after a moment of tense silence.

"But what?" Rebekah asked. "If it were something fatal, Hayley would already be dead!"

"And it's not like Sophie would do anything to endanger me," Hayley interjected. "Me and my baby are her only leverage, she wouldn't risk something happening to us."

"Which means someone else must have done something to Sophie," Rebekah concluded. "And it transferred through the bond to Hayley."  
  
"But why harm Sophie to begin with?" Ezra wondered. "And was Sophie their real target, or do they know about the link between her and Hayley?"

"Well, to figure that out, we'll need to know who 'they' are," Rebekah remarked. "Any ideas?"

* * *

I frowned as my phone vibrated in my pocket as I waited for the stoplight to turn green. Expecting it to be Rebekah again, I was surprised to discover that it was one of the contacts I'd enlisted to help me track down whatever asshole had murdered that motel clerk. It was, of course, someone in the know, supernaturally speaking. And this contact, a rookie at a local police precinct, had just sent me a suggestion to look into the local witch coven. They were, according to his sources, very dangerous and in possession of some very dangerous artifacts.

I texted him back a quick thanks, and scrolled through my contacts for Sophie's number. I called it, and scowled when it rolled straight to voice mail. Annoyed, I tried dialing again, but got the same away-from-the-phone-right-now message. Cursing, I left a message for Sophie to call me back as soon as possible, then scrolled through my contacts again. I didn't get far, though, because my search was interrupted by an incoming call.

 _Niklaus Mikaelson_ flashed across my caller ID screen and I stared at my phone in surprise. I sat there staring at it so long, in fact, that I completely missed the light turning green and got honked to hell and back by the cars idling behind me. Giving a quick flail of surprise, I waved an apology at them, and quickly sped through the intersection, pulling over to the side of the road as soon I could without causing an accident.

I flipped my phone open after no small amount of hesitation, wondering why on earth Klaus was calling me. "Uh, hi?"

"Where are you?" the Original asked sharply, sparing not even half a second on pleasantries.

"Uh...what?"

"Are you anywhere near Rousseau's?"

I glanced out my windshield and, lo and behold, what d'you know, I was three blocks away. "Yeah, actually. I'm just down the street. Um...why?"  
  
"Because I need you to come and pick up Elijah and myself. And be quick about it." With that, he hung up, the phone connection going dead.

"Son of a bitch," I grumbled, tossing my phone into the cup-holder as I pulled back out onto the road. "What the hell am I, your damn chauffeur?" But I zoomed down the street anyway, and pulled up outside the bar just a few minutes later.

Before I even had time to honk my horn, they were there, slipping into the backseat. I was not thrilled with having two Originals in the backseat where I couldn't really keep an eye on them, but managed to stifle my knee-jerk reaction enough so as to not show my discomfort in any visible way.

"Hey, guys," I said, trying to sound casual. "How's your evening going?"

"We need to find Sophie Deveraux," Elijah said without preamble. "Immediately."

I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Why?"

"Because she's been kidnapped," Klaus replied.

"Jesus," I muttered. "What is it, catching?" I shook my head. "Everyone's getting snatched up these days."

"Less commentary, more driving, please, thank you," Elijah said curtly.

I managed to refrain from snapping at him, but only barely. Needless to say, the drive would be a tense one, and I was not looking forward to it.

* * *

"Help me carry this?"

Ezra looked up from the comic he was reading to find Rebekah standing at the end of the couch, a basket of apples propped on each hip. "What are you doing with all of those?"  
  
She rolled her eyes at him. "Isn't it obvious? They're apples. You eat them."

"Not a whole basket at once," he countered in a dry tone, setting aside his comic. "Here, give me that."

She handed over one of the baskets. "Put those in the kitchen for me?"

"Sure thing," he said easily. "What about the rest?" he called over his shoulder as he obediently went and set the apples on the kitchen table.

"I was thinking we could take some up to Hayley," she called back. " I don't think she's eaten anything since breakfast, and...well, she is pregnant. You're supposed to eat more when you're pregnant, right?"

He left the kitchen to find Rebekah waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. "I really wouldn't know," he replied, giving a crooked smile. "I'm pretty sure I've never been and will never be pregnant, so I've got nothing personal to offer on that front."  
  
She gave a cute little snort and smacked him on the arm with her free hand. "You're terrible."

He chuckled before he remembered that he was trying to not be too friendly with these vampires, and was rewarded with a warm smile that lit up Rebekah's entire face. "You should smile more often," he said before he could stop himself. "It's a good look on you."  
  
Her lips formed an O of surprise and she looked at him oddly for a moment. "Thank you," she said after a moment of awkward silence. "That's...very kind of you to say."

"It's just the truth," he mumbled, giving a shrug that he hoped came off as careless. He could feel his cheeks warming up a little, and had an uncomfortable suspicion that if he caught a glimpse of his reflection right now he'd be blushing ever so slightly. He gave a short cough. "Let's get those apples to Hayley, shall we?"

Rebekah nodded a little too hastily and began ascending the stairs with elegant fluid steps. Ezra trailed after her, mentally kicking himself for being a socially incompetent goober.

"Time for the demon spawn to snack!" Rebekah declared as she flounced in Hayley's room.

"I _really_ wish you wouldn't call her that," Hayley said, laughing.  
  
"Oh, sorry, have you picked another name yet?" Rebekah held out the basket of apples. "Take one, the plantation's lousy with them."  
  
"I feel fine," Hayley told them as she picked out an apple and looked at it. "Which is weird. I'm sure it's Sophie-related," she added. Clearly, she realized that they were worried about her well-being after that strange moment earlier in the day.  
  
"Then, do me a favor, and don't die on my watch," Rebekah replied. "I'll never hear the end of it."  
  
Ezra snorted. "That's an understatement; your brother will butcher us both."

Hayley gave a hesitant smile before turning back to Rebekah. "You know, when I first met you, I thought you were a real bitch."

Ezra decided not to pitch in with how he'd thought so too, opting instead to just hover in the doorway without really joining in on the conversation.

Rebekah, meanwhile, smiled at Hayley's comment. "What changed your mind?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, I still think you're a bitch!" Hayley responded, laughing. "I've just grown to like that about you."

Rebekah chuckled. "Aw, well, that's sweet of you to say." Her smile faltered and her expression turned more serious. "Remember it when I'm gone."

Ezra looked up sharply at her tone of voice, but before he could ask what exactly he meant by that Hayley beat him to it.

"Gone?" Hayley repeated, looking confused. "Where are you going?"

"I only came to town to make sure everything was okay with Elijah," she reminded them. "He's fine, and he hasn't punished Klaus for daggering him, so... as usual, they'll be thick as thieves, and I'll be left to clean up the mess." She sighed. "It's time for me to fly the coop."

"Oh..." was all Hayley said, looking disappointed.

Ezra, likewise, felt a pang in his chest at the thought of Rebekah not being around anymore; he didn't know where the intensity of the feeling came from, but he didn't like it. The last time he'd felt stirrings of emotion for a woman he'd been carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

An awkward silence descended upon the room, and Hayley fidgeted with the apple in her hands before moving to take a bite. Before she could, however, she made an odd face, looking sick.

"What's wrong?" Rebekah asked with a frown.

"I dunno," Hayley said uncertainly. "Probably morning sickness?"

Rebekah and Ezra exchanged worried looks, and Rebekah placed a gentle hand against Hayley's forehead. "Oh, you're burning up, actually," she murmured worriedly.

Ezra shifted uneasily; something about this felt really not right. His skin had started tingling like he had the beginnings of a sunburn; it was a feeling he recognized, albeit faintly, from a handful of times someone had cast magic around him that he instinctively didn't like. He recalled the stabbing sensation Hayley had claimed to have felt earlier, and his unease grew. "Something's wrong," he said in a low voice. "We need to call your brothers," he said to Rebekah. "They need to know about this."

But Rebekah shook her head. "I tried calling them earlier to get an update on how things were going with Davina, but they have their phones turned off."

Ezra cursed angrily. "Of course they do."

* * *

"If you were a group of zealot witches, where would you take another witch you'd kidnapped?"

I scowled at Klaus in the rearview mirror. "Are you seriously asking me that like I should have an answer?"

"You're a witch, aren't you?"

My scowl deepened. "Not like these ones. I think we've firmly established that they're all bat-shit nuts." I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as we waited for a snail-slow tour bus to trundle through the intersection we were waiting at. "I could try and do a locator spell," I said with no small amount of trepidation, "but I doubt it would do much good. Not only would Davina most likely sense it, there's no guarantee I'd be able to pinpoint Sophie's location; the other witches likely have some sort of shielding in place to prevent exactly that."

"Which leaves us with more traditional methods of searching," Klaus concluded. "Any ideas?"

"What places in the area hold significant value to the witches?" Elijah asked. "Is there anywhere that their coven associates strongly with?"

"Lafayette cemetery," I said immediately. "When Rebekah and I went with Sophie to do a locator spell for you that's where she took us. And it's where a lot of their ancestors are laid to rest. "

"So it's a place of importance to them," Elijah surmised. "Very well, we'll try there first."

We found Sophie in the mausoleum, chained up like a prisoner. The two vampires wasted no time in freeing her from the bonds and I quickly scoped out the area to make sure no one else was lurking around. "What happened?" I asked Sophie once I was done checking the perimeter.

"Agnes stabbed me with a needle," the witch groaned.

"A needle?" I echoed.

"Our coven has some cursed objects that were created a long time ago," she said in explanation. "We use them so we don't get busted by Marcel for doing magic. The one she used is called the Needle of Sorrows," she went on. "It was cursed in 1860 when..."

Klaus cut her off sharply. "Jump ahead a few decades," he said impatiently, "and tell us what it does, love?"

"It has only one purpose," Sophie told them. "To kill a child in utero by raising her blood temperature."

My legs gave out from underneath me and my knees cracked into the stone floor of the masuoleum with a painful thud. "Oh my God."

"It's for a miscarriage," Elijah said, looking horrified. Klaus, likewise, looked equal parts stunned and furious, with more than a little panic mixed in.

Sophie nodded weakly. "Yeah."

"How much time do we have to fix this?" Elijah demanded.

"It will do what it's meant to by tonight's high tide. And believe me," she added, "it will work. I saw her use a similar object on a kid who went mad and killed a bunch of priests."

Klaus's expression turned from furious to downright murderous. "I'd like to have a chat with this Agnes," he said. "Where can I find her?"

"You won't," Sophie said, shaking her head. "There are a thousand places she could hole up to wait it out."

"I could try a locator spell," I offered again uncertainly as I managed to scramble back to my feet. I didn't want to use my magic, but if Hayley and her baby were at risk...

"It might not get us there in time," Elijah said dismissively, shaking his head before turning back to Sophie. "This sort of situation is precisely why we need to unlink you from Hayley. No more danger toward her or the child."

"No, what?" Sophie shook her head. "If I am not linked to Hayley, I lose my leverage on you. We had a deal!"  
  
I had to actually take a few steps back, the fury radiating off of Elijah was so great; my wolf side prowled under my skin nervously, not liking the threat this angry Elijah posed.  
  
"We are not on the same side, Sophie Deveraux," Elijah said, eyes flashing with dark anger. "Our deal no longer stands!"

We left the cemetery as quickly as we'd come, piling Sophie into the backseat with Elijah while Klaus rode up front with me.

"I need you to drop me off somewhere on your way back to the manor," the hybrid said as we pulled out of the cemetery parking lot with a screech of tires.

"This is hardly the time for a midnight snack run," I snapped.

"Drop me off at St. Ann's," Klaus ordered, his tone very much do-this-or-die.

I cursed under my breath, but did as he asked. "What's at the church that can help us now?" I asked him, glancing into the backseat briefly to check on Elijah and Sophie, who were glaring at each other like blows were about to be exchanged.

"If my sources are correct, there will be a group meeting there called the Faction."  
  
I blinked in surprise; I may never have been to the Big Easy before, but even I had heard of the Faction. "They're in charge of keeping the balance in the city, right? They keep an eye on all the supernatural crap and make sure nothing gets too extreme."

"Exactly so," Klaus agreed. "I'm hoping I can persuade them to help me locate Agnes before it's too late. Turn left here," he added as we approached the right street.

"I know where to go," I grumbled, but turned obediently.

Klaus wasted no time in vacating the car the second we rolled up to the church. "Get back to Hayley," was all he said before going inside.

I glanced back at Elijah and Sophie once more before pulling back out onto the street and punching down on the gas pedal. Time was clearly a factor here, and speed limits were the least of my concerns right now.

* * *

Ezra paced nervously as Rebekah sat with Hayley, whose condition had been growing steadily worse the more time passed.

His phone vibrated suddenly with an incoming text from Zoe. Or rather, Elijah using Zoe's phone because his sister was driving like a demon and couldn't be distracted. "Elijah will be here any minute," he told the werewolf girl once he'd read the message. "They're breaking all the traffic laws known to man and will be here in record time." He chewed his lip anxiously. "How are you doing?"

"I feel like I've been microwaved," Hayley groaned.

Rebekah dabbed some sweat off of Hayley's brow with a cool washcloth. "Hey! Just because you're carrying a baby doesn't mean you get to act like one! I'm sure my little niece is healing you up as we speak," she added, putting as much reassurance into her tone as she could manage.

Just then Elijah ran into the room. Rebekah stood up to greet him, then froze as she saw Sophie come in right behind him.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?" Rebekah demanded.

Sophie sighed. "I'm trying to help."

"Help?" Rebekah repeated incredulously. "You're the reason we're in this bloody mess!" She whirled on her brother. "Why aren't we unlinked with this witch already, Elijah?"  
  
"Because Davina hasn't mastered the spell yet," Zoe said as she joined them. "Elijah gave her the spell for the unlinking, but I guess she hasn't nailed it yet, because otherwise this would all be a non-issue."

"Look," Sophie said, "let me try to do _something_ , at least."

Rebekah did not look even remotely agreeable to the idea.

Elijah looked at his sister plaintively. "Rebekah, let her do what she can."

"I may know a way to slow the fever down," Sophie explained. "But I'm gonna need some special herbs. I'll text you a list, and you and Zoe can go get what I need."

"Zoe stays here," Elijah countered immediately. "I need another witch on hand who can sense when the link between you and Hayley has been lifted."

Sophie pursed her lips, like she didn't like the thought of that, but nodded. "Fine, just Rebekah then." She turned to the blonde vampire. "Everything you need to get should be at Jardin Gris. If you get going now you can get everything and be back before they shut the streets down."

Rebekah scowled, like she didn't like taking orders from the upstart witch who'd started all the trouble, but Elijah's nod of encouragement seemed to convince her to play along, at least for now. "Fine," she said with an overly bright smile. "Happy to play the fetch girl." She shoved the damp washcloth into Elijah's chest before she headed for the door, pausing only to glance at Ezra. "You coming?" she asked.

He stared at her stupidly for a minute before answering. "Uh, yeah." He grabbed up his jacket. "Yeah, definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! :)


	33. Chapter 33

" **And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness."**

* * *

Ezra rummaged through a box full of different witchcraft odds and ends as Rebekah sorted through an assortment of jars of herbs.

"We have the yarrow and the elderberry flowers," Ezra said, digging through the box and coming up empty. "Dammit, I can't find any peppermint. Or camphor. How about you?"  
  
"Nothing yet," she replied, sliding aside several jars she didn't need.

He cursed, kicking the box aside and moving on to a milk crate containing small paper-wrapped packages tied with string. He sniffed at a few of them, then sneezed when one such sniff sent a sharp jolt of a distinctive aroma straight up his nose. "Found the peppermint leaves," he called out, tucking the little package into his pocket.

"Great," Rebekah said, sounding pleased. "Just one more ingredient and we can leave."

Ezra opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get more than a couple syllables out, his wolf surged up with a massive snarl. _Enemy_ , the wolf growled. _Behind._

 _What?_ Ezra's heart jumped in his chest as he realized that all the scents of the shop had prevented him from noticing someone approaching and entering the shop while he and Rebekah were preoccupied.

"Isn't this Katie's shop?" a smooth voice asked.

Ezra turned and narrowed his eyes at the newcomer. "Marcel," he said by way of greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"Exactly what I was going to ask the two of you," the vampire remarked, answering Ezra but never looking away from Rebekah. "So, did Katie leave you the keys in her will, or maybe it's just Help-Yourself Tuesday?"  
  
Rebekah said nothing, and Ezra decided to follow her lead and keep quiet.

But Marcel wouldn't take the hint. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"You know," Rebekah said, her voice too sweet to be anything other than poisonous, "I read if you mix mugwort with sage, you've got quite a vampire-repellent? Wards off even the most resilient pest." She flashed him a bright smile that promised painful things. "Why are _you_ here?"

Marcel gave an expressive shrug. "Just keeping my city safe from thieves and vandals. But," he added, "every time I turn around, I catch an Original with their hand in the cookie jar!"  
  
Rebekah snorted. "Well, luckily for you, your 'cookies' are the last thing on my mind."

"Oh, I can see that!" Marcel replied, walking towards her."Though, I can think of a time when things were different."

"Maybe once," Rebekah remarked. "Not anymore."  
  
Ezra shifted from foot to foot, suddenly uneasy with the atmosphere in the room. There was history between Rebekah and Marcel; he could feel it in the air between them. It made his wolf uncomfortable, too; his wolf wanted to step in between them, keep Marcel away from Rebekah. Ezra couldn't understand the impulse, but with any luck he and Rebekah could extract themselves from this situation before his wolf forced him to act on it.

Thankfully, the next words out of Rebekah's mouth were: "Camphor, found it!"  
  
"Thank God," Ezra murmured.

"Let's hurry and get back," Rebekah said, and then she was on her way out the door, brushing past Marcel without a backward glance.

Ezra quickly slipped out after her, watching Marcel warily out of the corner of his eye just in case the vampire tried something. But Marcel didn't pursue them, just watched them go, looking equal parts confused and suspicious.

* * *

I was pacing anxiously back and forth along the edge of the pool as Hayley huddled nearby, wrapped in a towel, shivering. My twin brother was helping Elijah and Sophie with the herbs while Rebekah sat with Hayley.

"Her fever's getting worse," Rebekah said worriedly. "How close are you with those herbs?"  
  
"Just about done," Sophie replied.

Elijah left Ezra and Sophie and came over to Hayley, touching her forehead gently. "She's burning up!" he exclaimed, and proceeded to shrug out of his jacket and roll up his sleeves. "We need to do this now." Without further ado, he jumped into the pool, then turned to help Hayley in, with some assistance from Ezra who braced her from behind just in case she had another dizzy spell.

"I don't see how a midnight swim is supposed to help," Rebekah said, looking frustrated.  
  
"Her temperature is sky-high," Sophie said, bringing the cup of herbs with her as she joined the other two in the pool. "The water, with the help of the herbs, should cool us down." She approached Hayley and handed her the cup. "Drink this."

Hayley sipped at it obediently, making a face at the taste but voicing no complaints.

"You're going to have to get her heart rate down," Sophie added, looking over at Elijah.

"How do you suggest I do that?" Elijah asked.

"Hold her," Sophie replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's a natural human remedy to slow the heart rate and reduce blood pressure."  
  
"This is never gonna work," Rebekah said worriedly.

"We don't know that," Ezra murmured, brushing a hand lightly across her shoulders in a comforting gesture I wouldn't have expected my brother to give to anyone, much less an Original vampire. "We just need to keep Hayley and the baby stable until Davina works out the unlinking spell."

"Davina will break the link," Elijah said in agreement. "We just need time." He then scooped up Hayley bridal style and held her close in a way that made me oddly tense and unhappy. Which made no sense; why should Elijah holding Hayley affect me in any way at all? I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts from my mind; how I felt about any of this didn't matter right now. Hayley and her baby were the top priority, and everything else would just have to sit on a back burner for the time being.

I prayed hard that Davina would hurry up with that spell, for all our sakes'.

* * *

Ezra sat down next to his sister as they settled in to wait, and couldn't help but notice the tense set of her jaw and the lines of tension around her mouth. "What's wrong?" he asked her, his voice barely above a whisper.

She glanced at him then away. "What isn't wrong would be a better question," she muttered, eyes flashing gold for a split second before she wrestled her wilder side back under control.

Ezra blinked in surprise; Zoe, while temperamental, wasn't usually one to let her control slip like that. He figured it wasn't too surprising, though; they were all under a lot of stress right now. "Just try and relax," he advised after a moment a consideration. "Whatever it is that's bothering you, we'll work it out together, just like always."

Zoe just snorted, not saying anything.

Just as Ezra was about to ask again what exactly was bothering her, Hayley gave a loud groan.

"I can't breathe!" she gasped.

"Okay," Elijah said, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly. "Long deep breaths, Hayley. Look at me. Long deep breaths, just focus on the sound of my voice." He lowered his voice to a murmur. "You'll be okay," he told her softly. "You'll be okay."

But things were not going okay. Moments later, Hayley was thrashing madly, and screaming in agony at the top of her voice.

"Godammit!" Zoe exclaimed, bolting to her feet and rushing to the side of the pool. "What the hell is taking Davina so long?!"

Just then, Sophie let out a slight gasp of her own, her body going tense. And then Ezra felt it, that telltale tingle across his skin that signified magic. He could tell from Zoe's reaction that she felt it too; he could see it in the way she tensed up then darted a look over to Sophie to check and see if her instincts were right.

Sophie, of course, noticed them looking at her. "I just felt it lift," she confirmed, and moments later Hayley took a deep shuddering breath as the pain seeped away from her body and her temperature and heartrate began to stabilize.

Rebekah heaved a sigh of relief, and Elijah just looked shocked and relieved. He slowly lowered Hayley into a standing position, but offered no objections when she continued to lean on him for support. Sophie, well-aware of the suspicious looks sent in her direction, took out one of her earrings and pricked her palm with it.

Hayley tensed as she waited for the bond-pain, then relaxed when none came. She and Elijah exchanged relieved looks, and Elijah took her hand in his with a gentle smile. Zoe turned away from them abruptly, going back over to Rebekah and striking up a conversation about something entirely random. Ezra almost went after her, because she really was acting very strangely, but before he could Sophie was following after Elijah as he helped Hayley from the pool, her desperate, plaintive tone cutting through the still night.

"Elijah..." Sophie swallowed hard. "As soon as your brother finds out that the link is broken, he'll kill Agnes. I _know_ you don't owe me anything, but _please,_ don't let him kill her."

Elijah just gave her a look, zooming out of the pool with vampire speed to retrieve his phone form the jacket he'd left on the nearby table.

"Elijah! She's our only access to the power we _need_ to survive. Promise me that you'll stop him!"

He still didn't respond, ignoring her completely as he dialed a number on his phone.

Ezra, with his wolf-enhanced hearing, heard Klaus pick up on the other end.

"Yes?"

"It's me," Elijah said without preamble. "Where are you?"

"At church, dear brother, with our elusive witch keeping me company. The Faction came through after all, and I have her here with me now."

"Don't hurt her," Elijah ordered. "I'll be there shortly." He snapped his phone shut then turned to Sophie. "I'll make you one last promise," he told her. "I won't let my brother kill Agnes."

Sophie looked immensely grateful, but Elijah was still curiously expressionless. He simply picked up his jacket and shoes and headed back into the house, presumably to get changed before leaving. Ezra finally went over to his sister, and couldn't help but notice the way her gaze followed Elijah as he went.

 _Oh, great_ , he thought unhappily as he realized what her behavior implied. _That's the last thing I need, my sister getting the hots for an Original vampire._ Seriously. Because their lives weren't complicated enough. He made a mental note to talk to her about it once their current crisis was fully concluded. For now, he settled for huffing in annoyance and motioning for Sophie to get out of the pool.

The witch moved to comply, only to be halted by Hayley on the steps.  
  
"I know you were just using me to save your people," the pregnant werewolf said in a low voice, "but try it again, and I'll kill you." With that, she pulled herself out of the water with some assistance from Zoe and Rebekah, and then followed Elijah's example and went back inside the house.

Sophie heaved a sigh of defeat before hauling herself out of the pool, and Ezra couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She'd lost just about everything, and had no hope for the future.

 _Kind of like us_ , he thought glumly, glancing over at his sister as she followed Rebekah and Hayley inside. He gave a sigh of his own before tapping Sophie on the shoulder.

She turned to him with suspicious eyes. "What?"

"Let me drive you home," he said gruffly, figuring it was the least he could do considering the circumstances. "You shouldn't be on the road by yourself this late at night."

She eyed him warily for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Okay," she said at last. "Sure."

* * *

I trailed after Rebekah as she followed Hayley upstairs and made sure the werewolf girl got into a hot shower to warm up from the dip into the pool. Once we were sure she wouldn't have a dizzy spell and conk herself on the shower doors, we went back downstairs.

"Well," I said after a moment of curiously tense silence. "That was quite an exciting evening-"

"Sorry," Rebekah said suddenly. "I need to go talk to my brother for a moment. I'll be right back." And then she gone, going back upstairs to find her brother.

I stared after her, totally baffled by her demeanor. "Alright," I called after her, trying not to sound annoyed. "I'll just wait here, then." Crossing my arms I leaned back in the couch and snatched up the TV remote, flipping through channels until I came to a late-night news special.

I watched the news for a bit, then frowned as I scented the salty aroma of tears in the air. Looking up, I saw Rebekah coming back down the stairs, lips trembling and eyes watery.

I bolted up off the couch like someone had electrocuted me. "What is it?" I demanded, rushing over to her. "What's wrong?" I took her by the elbow and steered her into a nearby armchair. "Did Elijah say something obnoxious, because if he did I will beat his ass!"

She gave a shaky chuckle. "No. No, it's alright. It's...nothing he did." She gave a weak smile. "He actually said exactly what I wanted to hear."

My frown deepened. "So why do you look like someone just died?"

She shook her head, sniffling. "I'm leaving," she said, not quite meeting my gaze. "I'm done with my brothers and their games and their drama. So I'm going."

My legs took a time-out form underneath me and I plopped down onto the floor gracelessly. "What?" I croaked, her words not registering in my brain. "But, you can't! It's not...You can't just..." Unable to find the words to convey how totally not okay this was, I just flailed my hands a little, feeling completely helpless all of a sudden. "Rebekah, why?"

She shook her head again. "It's difficult to explain," she murmured, "and as close as you are with your brother, I'm not sure you'd understand even if I did try to explain."

"Try me," I challenged.

She looked at me and gave a tremulous smile. "Oh, Zoe," she said softly. "I just need to be free. I've been chained to my brothers so long. All I want is a chance to be myself, with no obligations or expectations."

"So you're leaving," I said flatly. "In the middle of all this crap, you're just going to up and leave."

She shrugged. "Now that Elijah's back, he and Klaus can handle any threats to Hayley. They don't need me as a babysitter anymore. Which is fine," she said in an uneven voice, "because it was starting to get boring anyway."  
  
I recognized that for a big fat lie, but didn't call her on it; she'd loved looking after Hayley and we both knew it. No point in reminding her of the obvious. "You've told Elijah?" I guessed, assuming that had been what her going upstairs to find him had been about.

"Yes." She swiped at the tears under her eyes. "Yes, I told him."  
  
"And?" I pressed. "What did he say?" I hoped he'd told her to stay.

"He said I could go," Rebekah whispered, another tear sliding down her cheek.

 _Son of a bitch._ I was going to kill him. The second he got back from whatever he and Klaus were doing with Agnes, I was going to tear his head from his shoulders and go bowling with it. Honestly! He was an intelligent and moderately sensitive man with centuries of experience under his belt. Someone like that should know better than to tell their sister she can leave since she's not needed.

But it was too late to fix the damage now, I supposed. He'd said she could go, and if she really did want to be free from her family drama, she _was_ going to go. And I didn't really think anyone could stop her once she'd really made up her mind about it. I doubted that anyone could convince Rebekah of _anything_ once she'd made up her mind.

"Alright," I said at last. "If it's what you really want..."

She remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "It is."

"Okay," I said, and suddenly I discovered that my eyes were hot and watering and my throat was tightening up. Good God, I was starting to cry. I turned away a bit, embarrassed.

"You're free now, too," Rebekah said softly, not commenting on my waterworks. "Our agreement was for you and Ezra to help me find and free Elijah. Well, he's away from Davina now, and you've more than held up your end of our bargain." She took a deep breath. "If you want my advice," she told me, "I'd suggest you and your brother get the hell out of this city before whatever's brewing between Klaus and Marcel blows up and gets everyone killed."

I nodded, still oddly unable to speak. Something about my only friend in New Orleans deciding to just pack it up and leave town was getting to me. Who'd have thought. "You be safe," I said roughly, rubbing at my cheeks a little too hard. "Okay? Look after yourself."  
  
She gave a wry half-smile. "I can take care of myself well enough. Without my brothers to clean up after, I doubt I'll have much excitement to deal with at all." Her expression sobered. "You and your brother look after yourselves as well, Zoe. I hope things go well for you."

"Thanks," I said, swallowing hard. "Are you going to say goodbye to Ezra?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "I doubt he'd care to hear it," she replied.

I recalled how much time the two of them had spent together, and how considerate my brother had been acting around her in spite of his initial opinions of her. "I don't think so," I found myself saying. "I think he'd very much care to hear it."

But still she shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "It isn't necessary. I'm not a fan of goodbyes, and now that I've really decided to leave, there's no point in putting it off. It's not like anyone other than you and Elijah will ever notice I'm gone anyway." She glanced out the window for a moment as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, then stood up abruptly. "I need to get going," she said, reaching out and squeezing my hand. "Have a good life, Zoe."

And then she was gone, out the door and into the dark night.


	34. Chapter 34

" **Never let a stumble in the road be the end of your journey."**

* * *

Ezra's phone rang just as he was pulling away from Sophie's place. Grumbling under his breath, he flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Is Hayley with you?" Klaus asked, not bothering with any sort of greeting.

Ezra frowned, putting his blinker on for a right turn as he pulled to a stop at a red light. "Uh, no. I was just dropping Sophie off. I thought Hayley was at home with Zoe and Rebekah," he added, flipping off another driver as the other guy cut him off mid-turn.

"Rebekah's left town," Klaus said curtly. "And Zoe's missing as well."

Ezra's vision went a little wonky and he quickly yanked the steering wheel over and slammed on the brakes. " _What._ "

"Hayley and Zoe are missing," Klaus repeated, voice tense and angry. "Elijah and I returned from dealing with Agnes to discover them both gone. We called Rebekah, but she's hell-bent to get out of town and wasn't there when they got taken. Marcel evidently paid the plantation a visit earlier, so our best guess is that he had something to do with it. There was a strange smell in Zoe's room, though, like carrion. I think perhaps he may have enlisted your revenant friend Evans to help him subdue the girls."

Ezra had to set his phone aside for a moment so he didn't crush it in his hand. "I am going to kill him." he growled. "Slowly, and painfully."

"Evans, or Marcel?"

"Both!" he snapped, his wolf surging up on a crest of furious wrath.

A moment of careful silence. Then, "Elijah and I are going to go confront Marcel at the Abattoir. I assume you'll be joining us?"

"I'll be right there," he said, then tossed his phone aside and stomped on the gas, zooming out into the highway with no regard for his fellow drivers and their speed law sensibilities.

* * *

I woke up feeling like I'd had too many shots of hard liquor the night before. Trouble was, I hadn't had any drinks the night before. Instead, I'd been shot up with a tranquilizer when Patrick Evans and some random dude I'd never met before had broken into the manor house to snatch up Hayley. Well, to snatch us both, really. Evans was there for me, and the other guy was there for Hayley. I had no idea how they'd managed to hook up, or even who that other guy was or how he'd found us, but honestly I didn't care.

This was twice I'd been abducted since coming to this city, and I was really starting to get sick of it.

I struggled to sit up, only to discover that I was actually in the back trunk of an SUV with my hands bound in silver chains behind my back.

"Oh for the love of..." I thumped my head against the trunk floor in frustration. Then I recalled that I hadn't been abducted alone. I twisted around, trying to get a better look around. Since the person I was looking for was about three inches to my right, I didn't have to look far. "Hayley?"

The werewolf groaned as she woke up. "Ugh...Zoe?"

"Yeah," I said, taking a shaky breath. "I'm here."  
  
"Sorry I got you into this mess," she muttered.

"Pretty sure one of those thugs was after me not you, so it's technically only half your fault," I pointed out.

"Ugh," Hayley said again, followed by, "So that big hulking dude was the one who tried to grab you before? At the music festival?"

I nodded, though I doubted she could see me in the gloom of the trunk. "Yeah, he's the one." I shifted slightly, trying to get some feeling back into my hands. "I didn't get a good look at the other guy, though. You?"  
  
"No," Hayley said with a sigh. "It happened too fast, I didn't see."

I gave a sigh of my own, then craned my neck around. "Think you can kick out that glass?" I asked, seeing the tinted back window of the back of the SUV not far from where we were.

"I can try," she said grimly, then lashed out with her legs, kicking at the glass.

The SUV braked suddenly, and we heard the driver get out and come around the back, presumably to check on all the thump-thumping. The back of the SUV popped open and Hayley went from kicking the glass to kicking the driver. But then she froze, staring at the driver in shock. "Tyler?" she said in surprise.

"Who?" I asked blankly.

"You shut up," he told me, before turning back to Hayley and grabbing her legs, pulling some zipties out of his pocket. "And you..." He shook his head. "Don't try anything stupid, understand?"

She snarled and kicked at him. "Let me go, you backstabbing half-breed piece of shi-"  
  
"Shut up!" he roared, and his face shifted ever so slightly, from an average human appearance to that of something other.

"Oh my God," I said in a stunned whisper. "You're a hybrid. How is that possible?"

The asshole named Tyler ignored me completely, instead dragging Hayley out of the car and slinging her over his shoulder. Then he stormed off into the bayou without looking back.

"Hey!" I shouted after him. "What about me?"  
  
"Oh, don't worry," Tyler called back. "Someone will be here to pick you up in just a little while."

* * *

Ezra followed Klaus and Elijah into Marcel's place without the slightest hint of hesitation. His fury was riding him hard and he couldn't find it in himself to give a damn about the scene they were making. He didn't care when Klaus snapped some vampire woman's neck, and he didn't bat an eye when the other vampires closed in around them. He just pulled out a dagger and held it loosely in his hand in a way that made it obvious that he was more than ready to use it if things got dicey.

The other vampires backed off, looking to Marcel for guidance. "What do you think you're doing?" Marcel asked, looking at them with no small amount of hostility in his gaze.

"It appears that we've interrupted a collection of filthy amateurs!" Elijah remarked, looking around at the circle of vampire fighters who'd been brawling just seconds before their arrival. "We've come here for the girls," Elijah continued, raising his voice to make sure everyone heard him. "Give them to us, or we kill everyone here... starting with you," he finished, looking Marcel dead in the eye.

"You three got a lot of nerve," Marcel observed angrily, "coming into _my_ home and making demands."  
  
Klaus gave a fake smile. "Oh, _your_ home, is it?"  
  
"The girls!" Elijah barked. "I will not ask again."  
  
Marcel rolled his eyes. "I assume you're talking about Hayley and her green-eyed friend? Zoe, I think her name was? Who are they, anyway?"

"Hayley's an old friend of mine, and Zoe is a friend of my sister's. You know how sentimental I am about old friends."  
  
"Well, I ain't got 'em," Marcel replied. "And before you start whining, I _did_ pay them a little visit earlier tonight. I was feeling nostalgic, so I took a trip out to the plantation where I used to be a slave. And, imagine my surprise when I realized that the Original family of vampires had taken up residence. Your girl Hayley answered the door, we exchanged hellos, the other girl Zoe made some vaguely threatening remarks to send me on my way, and that was it. You don't believe me? Look around if you really want to, but you won't find them here. So the question that I'd ask is: if Hayley and Zoe aren't here, then where are they?"  
  
"That's an excellent question," Klaus acknowledged. "And you're going to help us find an answer as soon as possible, with no argument."

"And why would I do that?" Marcel asked.  
  
Ezra took a very deliberate step forward, twirling his dagger in his hand with an almost casual air. "Because I'll slice you into little bite-size pieces if you don't."  
  
Marcel's jaw tightened. "I remember you from earlier," he said slowly, narrowing his gaze at Ezra. "You were with Rebekah at Jardin Gris."

"I was," Ezra agreed, deciding not to comment on the aggravating fact that Marcel had Rebekah's scent all over his skin. Whatever was going on between the two of them, it was obvious to his wolf's nose that they'd been intimate quite recently. Neither he nor his wolf liked the thought of that at all, and it was all Ezra could do to keep his wolf from exploding out of his skin and lunging for Marcel's throat.

"Don't think I caught your name," Marcel observed, his tone of voice pointed.  
  
Ezra twirled the dagger again, focused on keeping himself centered and in control. "No," he agreed, "you didn't."  
  
"It's pretty rude," Marcel noted. "To come barging in demanding help without introducing yourself."  
  
Klaus made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "Must you play at being king of the mountain?" he demanded irritably. "This is Ezra Storme. You'll notice a certain resemblance between him and Zoe? That would be because she's his _sister_ ," Klaus said with extra emphasis. "And I should not need to explain to you of all people how dangerous a brother can be when his sister's welfare is at stake." He gave Marcel a look loaded with menace.

Marcel raised his hands in a backing off gesture. "Okay, okay. I got it. No need to get nasty."  
  
"Oh, Marcellus. You haven't seen me at my nastiest yet." Klaus gave an unpleasant smile. "Let's hope things don't get that far."

* * *

Patrick Evans arrived to collect me about ten minutes after Tyler took off with Hayley. I, much like Hayley had done with Tyler, kicked and screamed and cursed him out with every vile insult I knew. He just laughed and stabbed me with another needle full of a morphine-wolfsbane cocktail that made me want to hurl up my spleen.

"What a delightful child you are," he said in amusement as I alternated between dry heaving and swearing. "I can see why your uncle desires to spend more quality time with you and your brother."  
  
I groaned in pain then gave a shaky laugh. "Quality time here having the meaning of endless torture." I snorted. "Family fun all the way around, for sure."

Patrick just shrugged and yanked me up off the ground, giving a little smirk as the silver chains wrapped around my wrists sizzled against my skin. "What he intends to do with you once you are in his possession is no concern of mine," he informed me. "I was simply given a task to fulfill, and I have done so."

I slanted him a look. "You haven't done so yet," I countered. "My uncle's locked up tight in his Wyoming compound. It's a long drive from here to Wyoming," I remarked conversationally. "Plenty of time for me to break loose and get away."  
  
The revenant gave an uproarious laugh. "You think he is still in Wyoming?" He chuckled. "Oh, little wolf, how out of the loop you are."  
  
A knot of dread formed in my stomach. "What are you talking about?" I asked warily. "What do you mean, he's not in Wyoming?"  
  
Evans just shoved me down the road. "You'll find out soon enough," he said. "The drive to Baton Rouge is much quicker than the drive to Cheyenne."

 _Well_ , I thought. _Damn._


	35. Chapter 35

" **Life is filled with unanswered questions, but it is the courage to seek those answers that continues to give meaning to life. You can spend your life wallowing in despair, wondering why you were the one who was led towards the road strewn with pain, or you can be grateful that you are strong enough to survive it."**

* * *

"Not the most attractive community, are they? " Elijah remarked as he glanced around at Marcel's vampires with a less-than-impressed look.  
  
Klaus arched an eyebrow. "You do realize they can hear you?"  
  
"You do realize I don't care?" his brother shot back. "And would you please sit still?" he added to Ezra, who was pacing back and forth impatiently.  
  
Ezra just glared at him.

Marcel finally returned, the witch Sabine trailing after him uncertainly. "You know, Elijah," the vampire said, "I liked you better in that box. _"_ He turned to Klaus. "But Klaus, my sire, you I owe the world, and I always show respect to my elders. If your special lady friends are missing, you could benefit from the help of a witch. And, since I control all the witches in this town, I'll grant you one little locator spell. Sabine's the best guide in the Quarter. Need to find someone? I guarantee, she's your girl." He ushered Sabine forward, then turned to leave.

Klaus frowned, looking confused. "Where are you going?"  
  
Marcel gave him a chiding look. "I hate to cut this short, but the sun's coming up soon. My nightwalkers need to get inside, and I have got a city to run. I leave you to track down your lost sheep." And with that, he was gone.  
  
They watched him leave then Elijah turned to Sabine. "Can you find her?" he asked, and there was no doubting which 'her' he meant; from the start, Elijah's every action had been with Hayley in mind.  
  
But Ezra wasn't there for Hayley. "Them," he corrected sharply. " _Both_ of them." He glared at Elijah. "Hayley _and_ Zoe."  
  
Elijah gave a stiff nod. "Of course."

Sabine looked back and forth between them, biting her lip. "I can try," was all she said.  
  
Ezra swallowed his next comment, which was that she'd better do more than try or else he was going to totally lose his shit and start off a bloodbath the likes of which she'd never seen. He figured it was probably best to keep little things like that to himself for the time-being.

* * *

I tripped over a tree root and face-planted into the marshy ground, cursing out Patrick for all I was worth. Since I was doped up with morphine, though, my insults came out more slurred than snarly, and all the revenant did was laugh and yank me back up.

"Is he really in Baton Rouge?" I asked quietly after another long stretch of hiking through the seemingly endless bayou. Patrick didn't need me to clarify the 'he' I meant.

"Your uncle relocated not long after his advance scout team disappeared here in New Orleans."

"Scout team?" I echoed in confusion, then realized what he meant. "Those assholes who ran us off the road." The assassins I'd refused to run from. The assassins I'd killed.

"Yes," Evans agreed. "With the high probability that you and your brother were here, he felt it best if he were...closer to the action, shall we say."

I closed my eyes as a swell of nausea overcame me, both from the drugs I'd been given earlier and the sickening knowledge that my uncle was less than a hundred miles away from where I was currently standing. Good God in Heaven, it was less than a two hour drive to get to Baton Rouge from the Big Easy. If Patrick was serious about his assignment, and I had no reason not to take him at his word, then there was the very horrific likelihood that I'd been seeing my uncle face to face for the first time in decades in just a couple more hours.

My knees gave out from underneath me and I threw up, the disgusting acidic taste of bile scorching my throat and nose as I choked and gagged, my vision going fuzzy as I struggled to get control of myself. Patrick gave me about three seconds to have my meltdown, then tugged me back to my feet and shoved me forward again. I stumbled, my muscles not working right, and fell down again.

"Get up!" he snapped, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me to my feet yet again. "Walk!"  
  
I shook my head numbly. "No," I said hoarsely. "I won't."  
  
"Walk!" he roared.  
  
"I won't," I repeated stubbornly.

He backhanded me and I crashed down to the ground. I was beginning to get very familiar with the ground in this area, and for some reason the thought amused me. I snickered to myself a little. Which of course only pissed of the revenant more. He kicked me viciously in the side before hauling me to my feet and dragging me along after him.  
  
"I am getting you to your uncle," he informed me coldly. "Nothing you try is going to work, so you might as well just give up."

"I'm a Storme," I told him matter-of-factly. "I'll never give up." And then I elbowed him hard in the side and dove into the underbrush. He cursed loudly and stormed after me, his big body thrashing through the scrub bushes so loudly I wouldn't have been surprised if they heard him from miles away. I was, unfortunately, still at a disadvantage from having my hands literally tied behind my back, but I'd work with what I had. And what I had right now was a very good pair of legs. So I ran.

My balance was off and I tripped and nearly fell more times than I could count, but I ran for all I was worth, because there was no way in hell I was letting Patrick Evans take me to my uncle. There was nothing I wouldn't do or give to avoid that fate.

* * *

 

"She's in the back country," Sabine told them once she'd completed a locator spell for Hayley using Klaus's blood. "Way up past Houma, deep in the Bayou."  
  
Elijah didn't look pleased. "I don't suppose you could be more precise?"  
  
"What's the matter, Elijah?" Klaus asked with a smirk. "You're worried a bit of splashing about in the bog might ruin your expensive shoes?"  
  
Elijah slanted him a look. "As a matter of fact," he responded, "after my recent confinement, I could use a decent stroll through the countryside."  
  
"There are stories of exiled werewolves," Ezra interrupted suddenly, recalling some rumors he'd heard from his contacts. "Encampments. If Hayley went out that far willingly, chances are she went to find them."  
  
"But why go now? And why would your sister allow such a thing, much less go along? She knows the danger Hayley is in." Elijah shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense. Your sister didn't seem so irresponsible."  
  
Ezra narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare blame this mess on Zoe."

"She was supposed to be looking after Hayley," Elijah replied, eyes flashing.  
  
Ezra opened his mouth, to say what he didn't know, but before he could snap back a retort he was cut off.  
  
"Let's not get into it here," Klaus interjected, nodding to Marcel's vampires, who were watching them with keen eyes. "In any case, I doubt Zoe is at fault. Hayley can be very...persuasive when she wants to be. And clearly, she hopes to make the acquaintance of more like herself. I suppose our company wasn't good enough for her," he added, and his tone of voice was light but anyone could hear the bitterness underneath it.

Sabine, meanwhile, was watching them like she thought they were nuclear warheads about to blow at any second. "Do you still want me to do the other locator spell?" she asked uncertainly. "For Zoe?"  
  
"No," Ezra said sharply. "Don't bother. It wouldn't do any good," he explained, seeing the Mikaelsons' questioning looks. "With our uncle searching so hard for us, we have security measures in place to prevent locator spells from pinpointing our locations. Doing one to find Zoe would be a waste of time. I'll know when we get close," he added. "I can sense her within a certain proximity."  
  
"Twin magic?" Klaus said with a smirk.  
  
Ezra just rolled his eyes.  
  


* * *

I wandered around in the bayou for what felt like hours. Being drugged and exhausted was not helping my sense of direction in the slightest, and there were too many intense smells for my wolf's nose to do me much good at all other than to tell me that the revenant who smelled like roadkill and motor oil was still chasing after me. Which I already knew, thanks to his loud shouts and curses as he tore through the bayou searching for me.

I found myself praying for someone to come along and save me. Which wasn't like me, I know. I'm not much for being a damsel in distress. I'm in a fair amount of distress fairly often, but usually I'm pretty good at getting myself out of trouble. Just for once, though, I'd have loved for a knight in shining armor to come rescue me from this ridiculous hellhole that was my life. Heck, I'd have settled for an asshole in a taxicab. Just someone, anyone, to give me some freaking support.

There was my brother, of course, but that was different, and he had his own heap of issues to deal with. Between the two of us, we were well on our way to shooting for the Most Screwed Up awards. Although the Mikaelsons were, I had to admit, giving us a run for our money. Who knows. Maybe we'd tie for the grand prize and all go down in flames together.

* * *

"Who the hell is Tyler Lockwood?" Ezra demanded as Klaus sniffed at the inside of an abandoned SUV they'd come across in their search of the bayou.  
  
"And why would your little hybrid-sidekick from Mystic Falls have any interest in Hayley?" Elijah asked.  
  
Ezra slanted him an amused look that made it clear he'd picked up on Elijah's answering his question while simultaneously asking one of his own. "And how did me meet up with Evans?" Ezra added, kneeling down to examine a massive boot print in the soil; they'd deduced that Evans had teamed up with the other guy, Tyler, after discovering a familiar van parked back on the road. "And how would they even know where to find the plantation house?"  
  
Klaus shrugged. "Tyler wants revenge because I went after his girl."  
  
Elijah gave his brother a look. "Why do I suspect this is the least of your offenses?"  
  
Klaus simply shrugged again.

Ezra waved a had to get their attention. "Okay, not following. Somebody clue me in, please. Who the hell is Tyler and how does he know you?"  
  
"Back when I had the means to sire hybrids," Klaus explained, "he was my first. Although, I didn't give him much choice in the matter."  
  
"Okay," Ezra said slowly. "So what happened? Because obviously you guys are no longer on the best of terms."  
  
Klaus sighed. "He was loyal in the beginning, but he grew insubordinate, turned my other hybrids against me. I couldn't have that," he went on in reasonable voice, "so I massacred the lot of them. Tyler ran like a coward before I could finish him off."  
  
Elijah gave a sigh of frustration. "Anything else that you would like to share?"  
  
"Well," the Original hybrid admitted, "there was this business with his mum..."  
  
"You killed his mother," Elijah said incredulous. "Wonderful."  
  
"He needed to be taught a lesson!" Klaus said defensively.  
  
"And what lesson will you be taught, Niklaus," Elijah demanded, "if he retaliates by harming Hayley?"  
  
Klaus looked at his older brother carefully for a moment. "So you do care about her," he said at last. "Well, go on, then. Have at it, brother." He waved a hand. "Save her. Claim what spoils you can. I've sampled what she has to offer," he went on, his voice becoming more cutting, "and let me tell you, she is exquisite-  
  
Elijah's jaw clenched as he cut his sibling off. "Niklaus, so help me-"

"Guys!" Ezra snapped, temper flaring up again. "Can we focus?"  
  
They both just stared at him for a moment then Klaus gave a razor-sharp smile. "Absolutely," he replied. "I'll go kill Tyler Lockwood myself." And then he was gone, disappearing with a flash of speed.  
  
"That's not what I meant," Ezra muttered, glaring after him. Deciding that he was fed up with the Originals and all their family crap, he ditched Elijah and struck out on his own, his only thought now to find his sister and cut the revenant who'd taken her into teeny tiny pieces that he'd feed to the gators.

* * *

I was running full tilt again when I crashed into someone totally and completely unexpected.

Tyler and I went tumbling down to the ground in a tangle of limbs and cursemwords, and as soon as I saw who it was, my wolf rose up and I lunged at him. "You!" I snarled, latching my hands around his throat. He flailed for a moment, then kicked me in the shin and tossed me through the air, and I recalled that he was somehow a hybrid, and that I should attack with maybe a little more caution.

But who am I kidding? Caution isn't in my nature, so I jumped at him again, growling. We crashed to the ground again, exchanging punches and kicks and snarls. And then Patrick was there, laughing his ass off and saying something about how he wished he'd brought a camcorder. I bit down hard on Tyler's shoulder even as I kicked out at Patrick as he approached, but now that it was two on one, I knew I'd stand little chance of winning, not against a revenant and a hybrid.

But then suddenly there was another hybrid joining the fight. _The_ hybrid, as a matter of fact.  
  
"Klaus," I gasped as he tackled into Patrick without so much as a pause, sending the revenant sailing through the air to crash into a copse of trees. "What are you doing here?"  
  
He kicked at Tyler, sending him staggering back several feet. "I was just trying to have a little chat with our friend Tyler here. Oddly, he didn't seem to want to stay and talk with me."  
  
"Maybe 'cuz he's an asshole," I rasped, rubbing my throat where Patrick had been trying to strangle me just moments before.  
  
Klaus smirked. "You're looking well," he drawled.  
  
"Screw you," I grumbled, followed by, "Have you found Hayley?"  
  
Klaus looked at me in that assessing way of his before answering, his tone strangely flat. "Undoubtedly the noble knight Elijah has found her already and is in the process of remedying all her ills. We'll go join them shortly," he said dismissively.  
  
"Not if I have any say in it," Patrick said, his voice taking on a harsh cast as he ambled back towards us, a Glock handgun in each hand. "That girl is coming with me," he said, aiming one of the pistols at me. "And that's all there is to it."

Klaus arched a brow. "Oh, really," he said. "And who are you to demand her presence?" He shook his head. "No, I don't think she'll be going with you," he continued. "She has a prior obligation to me and my family, as does her brother. Anything their uncle wants from them is going to have to wait until our business here is concluded." He gave a wide smirk at Patrick's startled expression. "You think that she and her brother wouldn't have told us who they were running from? Or that even if they didn't confide in us, we wouldn't find out the truth?" He shook his head again. "Underestimating us was your first mistake."

Tyler began laughing suddenly, his amusement tinged with an edge of hysteria. "What's so funny?" Klaus asked, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Oh, yeah," he chuckled, "they've definitely told you _everything_." He laughed some more. "No secrets left. No, definitely not."  
  
Patrick, likewise, gave a very disturbing grin. "Perhaps I should share the rest of your heritage with him," he said to me, eyes glinting maliciously. I realized, very suddenly, that things were about to get very complicated.

Before I could do something drastic, though, like grab one of Patrick's Glocks and shoot myself in the face with it to end this misery, my brother arrived on the scene. And by arrived, I mean charged out of the trees like a locomotive and slammed into Patrick with fury radiating off of him like heatwaves.

Klaus, Tyler, and I all took a moment to oggle at this unexpected turn of events before Tyler, seeing an opening to vamoose, bolted off into the bayou. Klaus snarled and moved to chase after him, but before he could, Patrick was grabbing my brother and throwing him across the clearing.

Now, let me get something straight. My brother is not a lightweight. He looks slim, sure, but he's all lean muscle. Add in the werewolf strength, and there's no way Patrick should have been able to toss him around like that. I realized then that Reginald must have given Patrick a magic boost of some kind, because even for a powerful revenant that was beyond what should have been possible.  
  
My brother went soaring through the air and crashed into a very solid tree with a resounding crack that I hoped was the tree protesting the impact and not my twin's spine snapping.

"Now," Patrick said, eyes gleaming as he struggled to catch his breath. "About that secret."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, guess what, guess what?! I PUBLISHED A SHORT STORY THROUGH AMAZON KDP AND IT'S NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE! It's a fun little werewolf thing, of course, because that's what I'm into right now. XD
> 
> If anyone's interested in checking it out/buying it, it's called Love & Trust: a Tales of Camellia short story. You can't find it with a google search yet, but if you search on amazon it'll pop right up. ;) It's only available as an ebook on amazon for the moment (which means I actually can't buy it myself since I'm a Nook girl :P), so I guess if you don't have a Kindle or the Kindle app you're out of luck (again, I'm in that unlucky group too, so if you're the same, don't feel bad ;D). 
> 
> That being said...if you guys do check it out, I'll love you for forever. [Although I'll love you guys for forever anyway even if you don't check it out.] ;) Oh, and I'm also setting up a secondary tumblr specifically for everything to do with Tales of Camellia, so if you're following my main yuzukimist blog, feel free to follow the Tales of Camellia one, too. ;)


	36. Chapter 36

" **A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept."**

* * *

"Now," Patrick said, eyes gleaming as he struggled to catch his breath. "About that secret." His sick smile widened. "They're not just witches, you see. They're also something else."

Before he could say it, though, my brother shattered our masquerade himself. He shifted, right then and there. As the change washed over him, Patrick backed up a step and I couldn't blame him. My brother, unlike me, is not a small or even average-sized wolf. He is a great, big, hulking beast. Imagine a black wolf the size of the most massive Great Pyrenees in the world, then add on another hundred and fifty pounds to that, and you'll have my brother.

He. Is. Huge. And all that weight rushed right at Patrick, no holds barred.  
  
"We're wolves, too," I said weakly to Klaus as he looked over at me. I took several stumbling steps back because his face was totally blank and I didn't know what to expect from him in regards to our revelation. We'd been keeping it from him, and I knew enough to know he didn't approve of secret-keeping unless it was his own. For now, though, he seemed to be in some sort of shock, so I refocused myself on Patrick.

I expected Patrick to get squished like a bug on a windshield from my brother's attack, but to my shock and consternation, that wasn't what happened. No, Patrick only slid back a few feet, which also shouldn't have been possible. Getting tackled by my brother in wolf form is like being bulldozed by a mountain; there's no stopping it.

And yet, Patrick halted the onslaught, tossing aside his guns and lifting my brother into the air once more, acting as if he weighed no more than a chihuahua puppy. And this time when he tossed my brother, he threw him in my direction, and I barely managed to get out of the way before three hundred pounds of angry wolf landed on me.

Rolling across the ground, I bounced up to my feet with a growl, so totally done with this entire freaking mess. I couldn't shift, though, not with my brother already changed. In case Klaus decided to jump into the middle of things, it would help to have someone on hand with a tongue that worked for talking. My brother, wolfed out like he was, was not going to be able to fulfill such a role.

My eyes suddenly focused on the ground at my feet, where, what do you know, there was a Glock nestled against the toe of my boot. I grabbed it up before I could have any second thoughts and fired it off without hesitation. My aim wasn't the best, but I managed to hit the revenant in the gut and in the shoulder. It wouldn't kill him, for several obvious reasons, but it would at least slow him down. And then Ezra prowled forward again, a menacing growl rumbling out of his chest as he went.

Patrick pulled another gun out of his waistband but Ezra lunged before the revenant could fire off a shot. Ezra clamped his jaws down around Patrick's neck and tore out a chunk of his throat before Patrick could do more than give a hoarse shout.

And then he couldn't do much shouting at all, because my brother had ripped out two thirds of his vocal cords.

Patrick Evens seemed to decide then that maybe it was time for him to leave. Rising to his feet with more speed than any dead man with critical wounds should have been able to, he sprinted for the undergrowth and disappeared. "This isn't over," he gurgled over his shoulder, and then vanished.

Ezra snarled and bounded after him, clearly not on board for letting the revenant get away.

But we still had other problems to deal with, so I ran forward. "Ezra, wait!"

He halted immediately, but growled at me, clearly annoyed at being cut off from the hunt.

"Klaus," was all I needed to say to get his aggravation to vanish, reminding him that we'd had an audience for our little showdown, and before I could say anything else my brother was there, pressing up against me and positioning himself between me and the Original hybrid.

How things went from there, I knew, would be entirely up to Klaus.

* * *

"Klaus must have known," Hayley said as she explained to Elijah everything Tyler had told her, making sure to include an explanation about the other werewolf, Dwayne, who'd been used by Tyler in his own hybrid experiment. "That's the only explanation! He could care less about the baby. He just wants her to be born so he can use her to make more sired hybrids. Although, " she added uncertainly, "the way that Dwayne was acting... it was more like he was sired to me."

Elijah sighed, looking troubled by the glaring implications of all of it. "I should take you home," he said at last.  
  
"Are you serious?" she demanded. "Home to what?"

"Look," Elijah said, "regardless of my brother's intentions, mine remain the same. I said that I would protect you. Even, if need be, from Klaus himself."

Hayley didn't seem mollified in the slightest, glaring at him. "I can take care of myself," she told him. "I've done it for a long time." With that, she stood up and walked away.

After a moment, Elijah gave another soft sigh, and followed.

* * *

I eyed Klaus warily, waiting for him to make a move to attack.

But no attack came.

He just stood there, looking at us, his face still completely devoid of emotion.

"For the love of God," I said explosively, unable to handle the silence any longer. "Say _something_!"  
  
Ezra gave a low whine and pressed against my side, probably trying to remind me that blowing up at an overly paranoid Original who had every reason to feel betrayed wasn't likely the best idea.

I buried a hand in his fur and knelt down to wrap my other arm around him, still not taking my eyes off Klaus. "We're wolves," I said again, needing to make sure we got this all settled. "Our mother was a witch who married a werewolf. Her brother didn't approve of her selection; he views werewolves as nothing more than violent beasts. But she refused to give up her husband, and when she became pregnant with me and my brother, the rift between them grew even greater. Eventually, the feud between them took the lives of our mother and father, and yet our uncle still pursues us. He's determined to wipe what he considers 'our stain' from the face of the Earth."

"Hybrids," Klaus said, breaking his silence at long, long last. "You are...hybrids."

There was something in his voice, something broken and lost, that made me want to run over and give him a hug and tell him everything would be okay. But we didn't have the sort of connection that would make doing such a thing safe; I didn't know how he'd react. Or even how I'd react, for that matter. So instead I just nodded, working hard to keep my voice steady and controlled; this conversation could easily go either way, and I needed to proceed very carefully. "We are," I agreed. "Similar to you, but not quite. Our heritage is wolf and witch, with no vampire to speak of."

"Still," Klaus murmured. "I never thought..." He seemed to catch himself and then shook his head. "This is an unexpected discovery," he said, looking at me and Ezra carefully. "And yet looking back I find myself not terribly surprised. The things about the two of you that never sat right with me...well, those things make more sense now that I know the truth."  
  
"I'm sorry we hid it," I said in a rush, knowing how precarious this part of the conversation was. "I am so, so sorry. But we...we've had trouble, in the past, with people finding out who and what we are. My brother and I..." I gave a choking laugh. "Well, I hardly need to tell you that people don't react well to things they don't understand, do I?" He, like us, had lived through the hell of being a half breed. Had, in fact, been living in it much longer than us, for over a thousand years.

"No," he said slowly, shaking his head. "No, you don't." He sighed. "What now?"

I stared at him, then gave a nervous laugh. "I was going to ask you that," I observed. "Are you going to kill us?"  
  
He snorted. "You're still immortal, correct?"  
  
"As far as I know," I acknowledged.

"Then any attempt to end your lives would be an exercise in futility at best."

I swallowed hard, not daring to hope. "You're not...going to hurt us?" I whispered, hating how pathetic I sounded but unable to do anything about it. Ezra, sensing my vulnerability, nuzzled against the side of my neck, his warm wolf breath a steadying comfort.

Klaus watched us carefully, some strong emotion I couldn't name flickering across his face then vanishing so quickly that I wondered if I'd imagined it. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly. "We will discus this further later," he added more firmly. "But for now, there's nothing more to say." He looked from me to my brother, whose lip curled back in a silent snarl, making it clear that Original hybrid or not Klaus had better watch his step. My brother, bless his heart, is not one to shy away from a challenge, especially not when he's on four paws with long fangs.

Klaus, thankfully, seemed more amused by my twin's response than anything. "Take your sister home," he told Ezra. "I need to go deal with Tyler and make sure that Elijah and Hayley are truly on their way back as well."

I struggled to my feet, bracing myself on my brother's strong furry back. "You'll be okay on your own?" I asked.

He gave an infuriating smirk, the one that I was beginning to suspect masked a lot of pain. "I'm used to being on my own," he said. "Go home," he repeated, seeing my stubborn expression. "I also cannot be killed, remember? Tyler Lockwood is no threat to me, and your revenant is long gone. Go home," he said for the third time, "and I will speak with you both later."

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, and not wanting to push our luck, Ezra and I exchanged looks and obeyed, heading in the general direction of the road.

* * *

Meanwhile, miles away and deep underground, Rebekah stared at Marcel in shock as he proposed a terrible, impossible idea.

"Do you know how many fools have tried to vanquish my brother?" she hissed at him. "If you stand against him, he will kill you and it will be awful and bloody and I will not stand around and watch." Shaking her head, she turned to go.

"You forget," Marcel said, putting a hand on her arm to stop her. "I have a secret weapon. Davina, the most powerful witch in the last couple centuries! What if she can find a way to kill him?"  
  
"You don't know, do you?" Rebekah shook her head. "You can't kill Klaus! Not without dying yourself. We learned it from the deaths of my brothers Kol and Finn. If an Original dies, every vampire ever made from their line dies with them. Even if you kill Klaus," she said heatedly, "he'll still win! It's been that way for a thousand years, that's his trick. He _always_ wins," she added bitterly.

But still Marcel wouldn't let it go. "There's another way."

"What would that be? " she asked, sounding tired.

"We bury him down here forever."

She stared at him like he totally lost his marbles. "Are you mad?" she demanded. "This little chamber of horrors may work for your riff-raff, but do you really think it will hold my brother?"

"Isn't it worth the risk?" he murmured, reaching up a hand to touch her cheek gently.  
  
She scoffed, pulling back.  
  
"You know I'm right!" Marcel said, eyes flashing. "Klaus will never stop trying to control you!"  
  
But still Rebekah shook her head. "And I'm supposed to believe that, after a century, suddenly you're willing to risk death at his hands to be with me?"  
  
"I want to defend my home," Marcel replied. "I wanna be free. And if that means I get to be with you, all the more reason to bury him. Now, you tell me- what do _you_ want?"

 _I want to be free, too_ , Rebekah thought, but said nothing, just stared at Marcel as all the terrifying choices hung above her.

* * *

"There you are!" Klaus exclaimed as he saw Elijah and Hayley approach. "I see you've found our wandering stray. Perhaps you could shed some light on the situation. This," he kicked Dwayne's body off the porch of the bayou shack he'd found, "appears to be a hybrid."

"His name was Dwayne," Hayley said.  
  
Klaus rolled his eyes. "Well, whoever it was, I didn't sire him. Any idea how that's possible?"  
  
"As if you didn't know!" Hayley snarled, stomping towards him.  
  
Elijah quickly stepped forward and put himself in front of Hayley, as if to shield her form Klaus.  
  
All of Klaus's good humor dropped away as he realized what was going on. "Ahhh, well, aren't you two fast friends? Oh, come on, then. What kind of horrible accusation have you conspired to levy against me?"  
  
"Tyler Lockwood brought Hayley here to test a theory," Elijah began.  
  
Klaus nodded at him to continue.

"That the blood of her child could be used to sire hybrids. He claims that you knew that," Elijah added. "Furthermore, that you intended to use this knowledge to build an army."  
  
Klaus stood up abruptly, the anger and emotional pain hitting him in a rush. "And, of course, you assume it's true. I mean, why else would I show interest in my own flesh and blood?" he said sarcastically before shaking his head angrily. "A heartbroken little crybaby points his finger at me, and my own _brother_ falls in line, eager to believe it! How quickly you believe the worst, especially when it comes from _her_." He cast a dirty look in Hayley's direction.

"Oh, spare me your indignation," Elijah snapped. "When have you ever demonstrated any kind of concern towards Hayley or her child, beyond your own selfish pursuits? And what was it you once said to me? _"_ His voice dropped as he impersonated Klaus. "Every king needs an heir!"  
  
Klaus took a deep breath, hoping to tamp down on the pain and anger racing through him, but failing like he always did. "My big brother," he said at last. "So, you doubt my intentions? Well, I can't say I'm surprised, standing next to the noble Elijah, how can I be anything but the lesser brother?" His tone turned bitter, with some self-loathing mixed in there if anyone cared to hear it. "A liar, a manipulator, a _bastard_." Klaus approached Elijah slowly, very aware of Elijah watching him with both contemplation and wariness, as if the older Original wanted to reconsider his position but didn't trust Klaus enough to really follow through. "That's all I am to you, isn't it?" Klaus demanded. "And Rebekah. And, judging by the way Hayley hangs on your every word, it's clear she feels the same way!" He hesitated as a new thought occurred to him, a terrible thought that ripped its way through his very soul. "No doubt my child will as well," he realized, and there was no masking the pain in his voice.

Elijah's expression changed to something softer, less harsh and judgmental. "Brother, if-"  
  
But it was too late to turn back now. "You've said all that needs to be said, brother," Klaus snapped. He took a few steps back, away from them both, and held his arms out in apparent defeat. "You think I am a bastard? Very well. I'll play the role I've been given." He turned as if to go, but couldn't resist once final attack. And not an attack of words. He used his heightened speed to rush at his older brother before Elijah could react, and bit him hard on the neck, tearing savagely at his throat, knowing that the bite would be toxic from his werewolf side and not caring. They'd caused him pain, so he would give them some agony in return.

He heard Hayley scream, but he ignored it, pulling away and wiping the blood from his mouth with his hand. "You two enjoy each other's company," he told them, not bothering hide his fury. "You'll have much to bond over, once the hallucinations and dementia set in. Consider that bite to be my parting gift to you both."  
  
Elijah choked out something inaudible as Hayley cradled his head in her lap, staring after Klaus with a horrified expression.

Klaus never looked back.


	37. Chapter 37

" **What you seek is seeking you."**

* * *

Ezra was just shifting back into his human form when Klaus knocked on his door. "Come in," he said, hastily grabbing up a towel to wrap around his waist. Unlike Zoe who had pretty good luck with it, he'd never managed to get his clothes to come back after a shift.

Klaus came in, and Ezra took an immediate step back at the look on his face. "You change your mind about punishing us for lying to you?" he asked, re-positioning himself ever so slightly so that he was closer to the dagger he kept under his pillow.

Klaus just looked at him silently for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. "No," the hybrid said in a low voice. "That...isn't what I came to discuss with you. As circumstances would have it, you and your sister's true natures are now low on my list of concerns."

Ezra relaxed, but only a little. "So what's up?"

Klaus sighed. "Elijah and I have had something of a falling out. My sister, likewise, is not particularly thrilled with my behavior of late. She doesn't seem to want in on my plan to overthrow Marcel."

Ezra, having heard that argument between Rebekah and Klaus downstairs a little while ago, made no comment, just nodded. He, after all, was in no position to say things like "she's already sleeping with him" or "I'd really like to castrate him because he's sleeping with her." He honestly didn't understand those impulses himself; it wasn't like he was particularly close to Rebekah, for all that they'd spent hours upon hours of time together in the recent weeks. All he knew was that the thought of Marcel and Rebekah together made him feel like he had fire ants crawling all over his body. His wolf, likewise, growled and snarled at it, and Ezra knew that if he encountered Marcel again he'd have to be careful to keep his wolf on a tight leash, especially if the so-called vampire king had Rebekah's scent on his skin again.

Klaus gave him an unreadable look, then shook his head. "I was going to discuss further tactical options with you, but you look fairly exhausted yourself. We'll resume this conversation in the morning. Make sure you and your sister come down to breakfast." And then he turned and left the room, going back down the hall.

Ezra stared after him, not quite sure what any of that had actually been about. "Okay."

* * *

I tossed my alarm clock across the room the next morning when it woke me up. I was so annoyed I didn't even cringe as it smashed into a billion little pieces as it slammed into the far wall.

Groaning, I rolled out of bed and ambled into the shower. I lingered in the hot water longer than I normally would have, arching my back into the hot spray and letting the water cascade down my body. The heat seeped into my sore muscles, loosening the tight knots of sinew under my skin, and I exhaled a sigh of contentment.

Then I recalled the events of the previous day and all my tension came rushing back. I clenched my fists and turned off the water, stepping out and toweling dry so fast it was a miracle I didn't give myself rug burn. I quickly slipped into a fresh change of clothes and tugged on my boots.

Going downstairs, I found my brother in the kitchen, chopping up an assortment of fruit. Once done, he transferred it all to a platter, which he handed off to a server girl I hadn't noticed standing int eh corner. She took it form him, bowed at the waist, then waltzed from the room. As she went, I noticed the bite marks on her wrist and scowled.

"What's going on?" I asked, going over to pull the kitchen knife from my brother's grip and set it on the counter. I knew his coping mechanisms when I saw them, and as much as I approved of this one, I needed answers.

"Just finishing up breakfast," he replied, his voice so even and controlled I knew that something must be very wrong.

I angled my head so as to get a better look at his face. "Ez?" I poked him in the side. "Talk to me. What's up?"

He just shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, voice hoarse. "But we'd better go join them before they wonder what's keeping us."

I followed after him in confusion, not sure why he was so upset. But then I saw Rebekah seated across the table from Klaus, sensed the tension in the air between them. I exchanged worried looks with my brother before going to sit by Rebekah. Which si when I smelled it. It was faint, the scent barely there, but still I caught it.

Marcel.

I'd met him only briefly the night before, when he'd arrived at the plantation manor unexpectedly. He'd introduced himself to myself and Hayley as an old friend of Klaus's. I'd said thanks for visiting, and warned him that I'd have whipped out a shotgun and blown him away if he hadn't knocked. I'd followed it up with an "I still might shoot you if you don't take off in ten seconds." Marcel, far from stupid, had taken me at my word and gone away.

Even with our one conversation totaling out at maybe fifteen minutes tops, I'd recognize his scent anywhere. It was a mix of vampire and New Orleans and apples and blood and a million other little things that added up to make his own individual scent.

What, I wondered, was his scent doing in the air around Rebekah?

And then I realized what it had to be. Which also explained why Ezra was seated about as far away from Rebekah as he could get without being in another room. My brother, I'd noticed, had a growing fondness for the lovely Rebekah. If his reaction was anything to go by, maybe more than just a fondness. Looking at his face, though, I wasn't sure if _he_ knew why he was so uncomfortable.

With his trauma from Sirena's torture, he might be suppressing any sort of romantic feelings without even realizing it. I found myself wondering what would happen if Ezra realized that he was falling for Rebekah, and then quickly slammed the door on that avenue of consideration. The wounds on Ezra's soul had barely even begun to scab over, much less heal. Pushing him into something like this would be a mistake of epic proportions. My brother was strong, but we all have our limits. Another heartbreak might be the final shattering blow, and I was in no hurry to find out one way or the other.

So I kept my mouth shut and reached for a danish.

"Have you spoken to our good friend Marcel today?" Klaus asked, looking as Rebekah.  
  
"No," she replied, giving him a blank look. "Should I have?"

"He's been mysteriously silent," Klaus observed. "Avoiding me, some might say. I thought perhaps he may have whispered reasons into your ear. Along with all of those sweet nothings," he added with a smirk.  
  
Ezra clenched his glass of orange juice so hard that I worried it might shatter, but he said nothing, and I followed his lead.  
  
"If I see him," Rebekah said sweetly, "I'll be sure to ask if he's still sore at you."  
  
Klaus looked at his sister for another moment, then heaved a sigh. "Let me give a voice to that look in your eyes." His voice took on a mocking edge. " 'My saintly noble brother lies writhing in agony in the Bayou, victim of my bastard brother's bite, when just one or two drops of his blood would ease his pain.'" He gave a short sigh. "That about right?"  
  
"On the contrary, Nik," she remarked coldly, "I am simply enjoying my breaky, waiting for Elijah's healthy return." She flashed a bright smile.

"Oh, come on Rebekah," Klaus said in exasperation. "You've been giving me the devil's eye all morning. Out with it!"  
  
"Perhaps I'm concerned that if I voice my opinion about what you did to Elijah," Rebekah said cuttingly, "I will end up on the wrong side of your toxic hybrid teeth."  
  
"Poppycock!" Klaus said dismissively. "I would never bite you. Elijah made some very offensive accusations about my intentions towards my child," Klaus said explanation. "He deserves a day or two of discomfort. Besides," he added, "you know my preferred method of punishment for your indiscretions is the dagger."  
  
I face-palmed. "For the love of..."  
  
Ezra, likewise, gave Klaus a disbelieving look, like he couldn't believe the Original had actually said that out loud. "Way to be sensitive, asshole."  
  
Klaus tossed half of a croissant at him. "No commentary from the peanut gallery," he said chidingly.  
  
Ezra just rolled his eyes.

Rebekah stood up, gaze never wavering from her brother. "There is something fundamentally wrong with you," she told him seriously. And then she turned on her heel and strode from the room.  
  
Klaus watched her go, looking faintly hurt and annoyed.  
  
"Have some fruit," I offered, nudging a platter of pineapple slices over to him  
.  
The hybrid stared at me like I'd lost my mind.  
  
"Pineapple has good health benefits," I informed him sagely. "There are some studies that show it can lower blood pressure."  
  
"Do I look like I need my blood pressure lowered?" Klaus asked dryly.

"Maybe," I acknowledged, then frowned as his words from earlier played back through my mind. _Elijah made some very offensive accusations about my intentions towards my child_ , he'd said. _He deserves a day or two of discomfort.  
_  
_Writhing in agony in the Bayou_ , he'd said.

Victim of a werewolf bite, I realized with horror. Klaus's bite. "Holy Mother of God," I blurted, erupting out of my chair. "You bit Elijah? And left him behind?!"  
  
Ezra gave me a look that said I should really just stay out of it. "Zoe," he said warningly.  
  
But I ignored my twin. "I can't believe you left him behind!" I snarled.  
  
Klaus's eyes flashed angrily. "I think I missed the part where you get to have opinions about my actions towards my own siblings. Especially given the nasty branches of your own family tree."  
  
I snarled at him, and headed for the door.  
  
Ezra bolted up out of his seat, looking worried now. "Zoe, where are you going?"  
  
"Back to the bayou," I snapped.  
  
He nearly knocked his plate from the table in his haste to get up and jump in my path to the door. "Zoe, you can't," he protested. "We just got back the other night. And there's no way to know when that revenant asshole might make another play for us. We should just stay here and-"

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way," I growled, barely restraining my fury. I didn't like snarling at my brother, but the idea of Elijah stranded in the bayou with just Hayley and hungry gators for company was tripping all sorts of internal hot buttons for me. I didn't understand why Elijah in pain was such a big deal for me; maybe it was because he'd been the first Original I'd met and I felt some attachment to him as a result. Maybe it was because I found him to have incredible fashion sense, in his immaculate suits and crisp dress shirts. Maybe it was because I knew that he was good at heart, despite whatever atrocities he must have committed over the course of his obnoxiously long existence. Maybe it was because he so obviously loved his family and seemed to want only the best for them.

Aw, hell, who was I kidding. It was because he was hot. It was because I, for whatever reason, found him hellishly attractive.

"I am going," I told my brother, "and whoever tries to stop me is going to end up roadkill." I looked my twin dead in the eye, my attitude about ten kinds of not-screwing-around. As the person who knew me best in the entire universe, Ezra understood exactly how serious I was, and stepped aside without further argument, just squeezing my shoulder gently.  
  
I managed to flash him a shaky smile of gratitude, and then I was gone out the door, my only thought getting to Elijah before something else happened to him.

* * *

"Here," Hayley, lifting a cup of water to Elijah's lip. "Drink this."

Elijah, pale ans sweaty and clearly miserable, did as she asked, sipping at the water slowly. But he immediately gagged and started coughing. "Forgive me," he muttered. "Please."

"It's okay," Hayley said, setting the cup aside and running a gentle hand through his hair. "There's nothing to forgive. Just...remind me to annihilate your brother once you're healthy."  
  
Elijah gave a weak chuckle. "Yes," he replied, "remind me to remind you to get in line."

Hayley dabbed at his forehead with a washcloth. "Your fever's not getting any better," she said worriedly. " Although I guess it doesn't help that we decided to shack up in a swamp either." She set the cloth aside and went out onto the porch, propping open the door to try and let more of a breeze in.

Elijah watched her quietly for a moment, but couldn't stifle his coughs for long.  
  
Hayley immediately rushed back to his side. "Are you okay?" she asked anxiously.  
  
"I'm fine," he said, trying to be as reassuring as possible given the circumstances. "Please, just...return to your reading." He gestured to the book she'd found earlier, the Bible containing what seemed to be her long lost family tree.  
  
But Hayley shook her head. "I went through the whole thing," she said with a sigh. "It's just a regular Bible. With an entry in a family tree that may or may not be me. But, you know, I've been a little busy worrying about you." She gave him a tremulous smile.

Elijah looked at her plaintively. "Hayley, please. This fever will make me unstable. And once the hallucinations begin, I'll start to see things. You must leave me here."  
  
She gave him a stubborn look he was starting to secretly adore. "I'm _not_ leaving you like this."

* * *

Ezra sat back down at the breakfast table slowly, not quite looking at Klaus. He was surprised that the hybrid hadn't tried to stop Zoe from leaving, but damn if he was going to ask the other man about it. As bipolar as Klaus was that conversation could definitely end bloody. So he sat back down and stabbed at a chunk of melon with his fork.

Klaus broke the silence first. "She really is very temperamental, your sister."  
  
Ezra couldn't help it, he laughed. "You of all people have no room to criticize someone else's mood swings. Besides," he added, "she's not wrong. It was a shitty thing to do, leaving him there."  
  
Klaus sighed. "I _am_ aware of that," he replied. "Why do you think I allowed your sister to go off to retrieve him?"  
  
Ezra snorted. "Allowed? I doubt you could have stopped her."  
  
Klaus just smirked. "I can be very persuasive."

"Yeah, I've seen your _persuasion_ ," Ezra said, darkly amused. "And it wouldn't have worked on my sister. She doesn't take shit from anybody."  
  
"I have noticed that about her," Klaus observed dryly. He glanced at his watch suddenly. "If you'll excuse me," he said, " I need to be going. I have an appointment to keep."  
  
Ezra gave a careless shrug. "Okay. Whatever. See you later, I guess."

* * *

Hayley got sucked into Elijah's memories without meaning for it to happen. She had just been brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes when her touch had transported her into his mind. She saw a beautiful woman lounging in a porcelain bathtub. Feeling oddly uncomfortable and strangely jealous, she pulled out and away.

Elijah stirred from his fever-sleep. "Celeste?" he murmured, then realized who it was sitting beside him. "Hayley, I'm sorry, " he said, realizing that he must have been hallucinating. "I thought you were someone else."

"Celeste," Hayley agreed, trying not to sound annoyed. "Whoever she was, she was smokin' hot," she observed, trying to add some humor to her voice.  
  
Elijah looked distinctly embarrassed. "Did I let you enter my thoughts?" he asked, looking concerned. "I'm not well. I should go. This is..."

Hayley pushed him back down when he moved to sit up. "This is fine, Elijah," she said soothingly. "You're sick, I'm taking care of you. It's okay."  
  
Elijah managed to give her a weak smile, then frowned as he sensed someone outside. "We're being watched," he whispered, glancing out the door pointedly.

Hayley spun around, then went out the door, looking around. She saw a woman she didn't recognize standing several yards away. Once the woman realized Hayley had spotted her, she bolted, running away.  
  
"Hey," Hayley called out. "Hey!" She glanced back at Elijah, but the Original seemed to have passed out again. Since he seemed to be stable for the moment, she jumped down off the porch and chased after the other woman.

She'd only gone a few hundred feet, though, when she lost the trail. Frustrated, she whirled around. "Why don't you just come talk to me!" she shouted.

Suddenly, two figures dressed in black stepped out of the trees. They were clearly not affiliated with the strange woman who'd been watching Hayley; it was clear from their expensive clothing that they were only in this bayou because they were looking for something or someone they thought was here.

Hayley noticed that they were both wearing signet rings. And what d'you know, both rings were stamped with a sigil she recognized. A thundercloud pierced by a lightning bolt. It was the same as the symbol she'd seen tattooed on the forearm of the one Zoe had called Patrick. A revenant, she and her brother had later explained; a dead man brought back to a semblance of life by their evil psychotic uncle.

Storme, she realized as she looked at the symbol on the rings. It was a crest of some sort for the Storme family. Those rings meant that whoever these two newcomers were, they were allied with or at least working for Zoe and Ezra's uncle.  
  
Hayley looked around nervously, wishing she hadn't gone running off into the bayou with no back up. It had been a really stupid thing to do, and now she had no idea what was going to happen.

* * *

I tromped through the bayou with no real destination in mind. I'd started my search in the clearing where we'd fought with Patrick, figuring that wherever Elijah and Hayley were holed up couldn't be much farther away, since it hadn't taken Klaus long to find them, flip his shit, and come back. He did have vampire speed on his side, though, so there was that to consider.

Before I really started to get frustrated, though, I picked up the scent of dark magic on the air. "What the hell...?"  
  
I struck off in the direction the scent was coming from. And what did I discover but Hayley, cornered by two Shadow assassins. "Son of a bitch," I snarled, charging forward.

"Would you guys back the hell off already?!" I pulled a dagger and flung it at the closest warlock. He dodged to the side, but wasn't fast enough to get out of the way before I kneed him in the groin. He went down hard, and I whirled, palming another blade as the second warlock approached. "This is your one warning," I told him. "Leave or die."

Idiot that he was, he didn't take my advice. Fine. He could die like the last ones who'd come.

I turned on my heel, hurled my second dagger through the air; it slashed hrough the air and stabbed into the first warlock's throat, cutting right through his jugular. The second warlock rushed at me then, roaring in outrage. I was out of blades, but not out of ways to attack. And I was too angry to consider the repercussions of what I was doing. My anger was riding me hard, and I couldnt think clearly enough through the red haze of rage to realize that I was breaking own of ny own rules.  
Not to use magic.

I shouldn't have done it. Really, it was a bad idea. Using magic was something I'd established as forbidden for myself. I'm a strong witch, don't get me wrong; it's not like overreaching my magic was an issue. But maybe that's part of the problem, too. I'm a strong witch, good at magic. But...too good. It's too powerful, too addictive. After how things had gone so sour the last time I'd been actively practicing, I'd sworn off serious magic.

But it looked like my dry period had come to an end.

I let the assassin-warlock get in just close enough, then let loose with a spell. It was a pretty basic one, of the Latin incantation variety. I could have just whispered the words, I suppose, or even just thought them. But I was furious, and felt like shouting. I wanted to be heard.

" _Exsufflo hostium_ ," I roared, and a massive concussive wave exploded out from where I was standing, blowing back the warlock so hard that his spine snapped from the force. And if that hadn't been enough, he flew through the air to crash into a very solid tree, the impact nearly snapping him in half. His corpse crashed to the ground in a sprawling heap, the life clearly gone from his body.  
  
I stood there panting for a moment, then glanced over at Hayley. The werewolf woman was staring at me like she'd never seen me before, her face pale and eyes wide, looking frightened.

"Where's Elijah?" I asked her.


	38. Chapter 38

" **Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could."**

* * *

Hayley took me to Elijah without argument, clearly seeing me as someone not to argue with. Or at least someone not to argue with after I'd just killed two assassins without blinking an eye.

We reached the shack she and Elijah had taken shelter in, and my heart constricted painfully in my chest when I saw how ill he looked. Trying to keep my hands from shaking, I knelt down beside him. "How long has he been this bad?" I whispered, touching his forehead gently and finding it scorching hot.

"Not long," Hayley murmured, kneeling down at his other side. "He only started getting really bad a little while ago."  
  
"And you left him alone?" I hissed, resisting the urge to smack her upside the head. "He's done nothing but look after you from day one, and you bail on him?!"

"There was someone watching us from outside," Hayley snapped defensively.

"So let them watch!" I growled. "Who gives a damn?"

Hayley opened her mouth to fire off a retort but then Elijah gave a low, painful-sounding moan and we both froze, our personal differences falling away, buried underneath our concern for the vampire between us. Without stopping to think I pulled him closer, cradling his head in my lap. Hayley gave me a funny look but didn't object, just taking his hand in hers and squeezing gently, rubbing her thumb in slow, soothing circles across his knuckles. Elijah moaned again, thrashing slightly as whatever visions the fever thrust upon him took hold. Before I realized what was happening, those visions pulled me and Hayley in, sucking us in with no regard for personal space or privacy.

The first thing I saw was a very naked woman reclining in an old bathtub. Then I realized it wasn't that the tub was old; this was one of Elijah's memories, a scene from his past.

"Who the heck is she," I grumbled, feeling frumpy in comparison to the lovely goddess in the tub.

"Celeste," Hayley supplied.

"And who the heck is Celeste?" I growled.

Hayley just shrugged. "Someone he cared about, obviously." She nodded to past-Elijah, who was now leaning down and kissing the other woman passionately, their love obvious to anyone with eyes.

I felt like someone had sucker punched me, and my wolf-half snarled and prowled under my skin. _Easy_ , I told myself. _Relax. It's in the past. It's already done with, long ago._

And then we were back in the shack in the bayou, the grip Elijah's fever-induced memories had on us falling away as Elijah himself stirred from his uneasy slumber. "Please, Hayley," he said, clutching at her hand like a lifeline, not even noticing me despite the fact I was all but holding him in my lap. "This fever," he groaned. "My mind is flooded with these torturous memories. You have to leave."  
  
"What is your deal?" she demanded. "You don't like people taking care of you?"  
  
"There are consequences for those that care," Elijah said weakly. "I will not have you pay that price."

"So, you're having weird, retro sex dreams?" Hayley said lightly, her tone both serious and teasing. "Get over it," she told him. "I'm staying." A glance over at me. " _We're_ staying," she corrected.  
  
Eliajh blinked up at her, confused. "We...?" he echoed. And then seemed to _finally_ notice me sitting there. "Zoe Storme?" he whispered, looking utterly baffled. "What...are you doing here?"  
  
"You're such an idiot," I told him irritably, feeling inexplicably annoyed with him all of a sudden. "Why wouldn't I be here?"

He just stared at me blankly, and I sighed. "Drink your damn water," I grumbled, picking up the cup and putting it gently to his lips.  
  
He glanced at Hayley who nodded in encouragement, then sipped hesitantly at the water. "Thank you," he said once he was done.  
  
"You're welcome," I sad gruffly, setting the cup aside again.  
  
"You've got blood on your jacket," he remarked suddenly, his gaze riveted on the edge of my sleeve.  
  
I glanced down to see that he was right. "Huh," I said, my voice the very definition of dull surprise.  
  
Hayley glared at me. "Seriously?"  
  
"What?" I said defensively. "It's not my fault the asshole bled on me as I killed him. And you're welcome, by the way, for saving your life. Geez."

"They were after _you_ ," Hayley pointed out. "So technically all you did was clean up your own mess."  
  
I resisted the urge to growl at her, but only barely.  
  
Elijah, meanwhile, was looking at us like he'd fallen behind in the conversation somewhere along the way. "You killed someone?" he said uncertainly, looking back and forth between us. "Who was it?"  
  
"Some assassins sent by my uncle to capture me for torture," I said calmly. "Don't worry, I dealt with it."  
  
Elijah frowned faintly, looking troubled, then shook his head and looked back to Hayley. "What about our other visitor?" he asked her. "The woman who was watching us. What does she want?"

"I don't know," Hayley admitted. "I'm guessing she's the one that left the mystery Bible on the doorstep last night. Would be nice if she'd stick around long enough to tell me why," she added, sounding frustrated.  
  
"Hayley," Elijah said seriously, "you came here to gather information about your family, not to play nursemaid to a vampire with a temperature. Please, find her. Learn what you can."  
  
Hayley shook her head stubbornly. "No, I'm staying with you. I won't leave you alone."  
  
"I'm not alone," he told her, his tone gentle. "Zoe is here now, and she can keep an eye on me while you search for answers."  
  
Hayley didn't look at all happy with his logic. "But I really don't-"  
  
"Hayley," he said firmly. "Go."  
  
She set her jaw stubbornly. "No," she told him, not backing down.

I sighed. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Ezra's phone went off as he was in the middle of trying to convince a sketchy blackmarket weapons dealer to sell him an untraceable six-shot revolver. The shifty guy bailed, of course, the second Ezra looked away, and was gone before Ezra could catch him again, disappearing down the street as he merged with the rest of the foot traffic.

Cursing, he flipped his phone open. "What?" he snapped in annoyance.  
  
"You could do to learn some phone etiquette," Klaus remarked. "I believe 'hello' generally comes before 'what' but perhaps that's just me."  
  
Ezra took a deep breath, reminding himself that he needed to be nice to Klaus. Or at least not overly rude. "Hello, Klaus," he said, injecting his voice with false cheer. "How are you?"  
  
"Oh, well enough," Klaus replied in matching tone. "Yourself?"  
  
"Never better."  
  
"Good, good. Now, on to business?"  
  
"Yes, please," Ezra gritted out.  
  
"Well," Klaus said, "I find myself needing to drop by and pay Marcel a visit."  
  
"Okay," Ezra said slowly, not sure where this was going. "And?"  
  
"Things are falling into place," Klaus observed. "A little too neatly, all things considered."  
  
"Why is easy a bad thing?" Ezra asked, exasperated.  
  
"Because it's suspicious," Klaus answered immediately, as if that should have been the most obvious thing in the world. "And on that note, I would appreciate some back up on this little visit."  
  
Ezra frowned. "You want me to be your wingman when you go talk to Marcel?" he asked, wanting to be sure he understood correctly.   
  
"Exactly so," Klaus affirmed. "I'll meet you there in, say, half an hour?"  
  
"I really don't-"  
  
"See you soon," Klaus said dismissively, then hung up.  
  
"Arrogant asshole," Ezra muttered, shutting his phone and rubbing the back of his neck. "Great," he said sarcastically to himself. "This is so totally how I wanted to spend my night. Vampire back-up. Dammit."

He wondered if it wasn't entirely too late to run down the arms dealer again and get that gun.

* * *

Klaus spotted Ezra waiting for him and couldn't help but be surprised. "I half expected you not to show," he remarked.  
  
Ezra just frowned at him. "Why wouldn't I come?" he asked, looking puzzled. "You asked me to be here."  
  
Klaus just shook his head. "Well, yes, but normally whenever I ask anyone to do something for me, there's considerable argument and opposition. I'm not used to such obedience."

Ezra bared his teeth in a snarl that Klaus now recognized as a wolf mannerism. "It's not obedience," the witch-wolf growled, eyes flashing gold.

Klaus found that he liked Ezra better now that the other man wasn't trying to hide his true nature. And the same was true for Zoe as well. Klaus hadn't hadn't realized how much of themselves Ezra and his sister had been keeping hidden and subdued until Zoe had finally confessed the truth of their heritage. Now that they didn't seem preoccupied with keeping that secret under wraps, though, Ezra and his sister were both more free with their behaviors. Except, he'd noticed, around his other siblings, which led him to believe that, for whatever reason, he was the only one they'd told.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He also wasn't sure, he had to admit, how he felt about their hybrid nature in general. The resemblance of their situation to his own triggered all sorts of uncomfortable feelings, feelings he was going to great lengths to avoid examining too closely.

"Let's get going," he said abruptly, gesturing to the entrance. "Best to get this little powwow over with."  
  
Ezra just gave a shrug and followed after him, pausing only to glance around to make sure they weren't being watched. They reached a courtyard to find Marcel waiting for them. Ezra let Klaus walk forward, opting to hang back on the periphery and keep an eye on things.

"Klaus," Marcel said in greeting.  
  
"You've been avoiding my calls," Klaus observed.  
  
"Little pissed off lately," Marcel said tightly.  
  
"Apologies for my behavior can come later," Klaus replied. "You have something of mine. I want it back."  
  
"Sorry," Marcel said, pulling out a silver dagger, "but I can't do that." He held out the dagger, and then suddenly Rebekah emerged from the shadows and took it from him.

Klaus heard Ezra's sharp intake of breath, but didn't stop to wonder at it. Instead, he narrowed his gaze at his sister. "What is this?" he asked suspiciously.

"Apologies for your behavior?" she said mockingly. "You don't apologize, Nik. You just act. I've had enough." She looked at Marcel. " _We_ have had enough."  
  
"Look at you," Klaus said, voice sharp. "Finally in possession of the one thing that can take you down. How does it feel?"  
  
Rebekah smiled, looking smug. "Great."  
  
Marcel suddenly let loose a piercing whistle. On cue, a dozen of his vampires arrived on the scene, clustering on the balconies above.

Klaus laughed. "So this is it? The evil bastard Klaus has gone too far, must be punished. And by his own sibling, nonetheless. How positively biblical. And you, Marcel, is this," he pointed to the vampires, "your idea of a hit? I taught you better than this paltry excuse for a take-down, " he snarled. "Do you think you can subdue me with _this_!?"  
  
"No," Marcel said evenly. "But I think I can with this." He whistled again, and more vampires appeared. More than he could count at once, filling in the spaces and gaps on the balconies, until there wasn't a square inch of free room to spare.  
  
Klaus watched them crowd in with expressionless eyes, not speaking.

"Son of a bitch," he heard Ezra mutter, followed by the distinctive sound of a revolver being loaded.

* * *

I wasn't prepared for Elijah to lunge at Hayley in his fever, snarling that he was going to kill her. Well, he thought she was Klaus, so there was that, but still. I tried to intervene but he knocked me clear across the room and I hit my head hard against the hard edge of a table. My vision went a little fuzzy and by the time I'd recovered, a stranger was standing over Elijah's inert, staked body, with Hayley gasping for air, hands rubbing her throat.

"Oh, thank you!" Hayley exclaimed. "I thought I was going to die."

I rolled my eyes, pulling myself to my feet. "Who are you?" I asked the stranger, disliking her on principle because she'd just staked Elijah. Sure, he'd been about to strangle the woman he was supposed to be protecting, but these things happen when one is poisoned by a werewolf bite, so I was willing to allow some leeway, all things considered.

The stranger, though, ignored me entirely. Her only interest seemed to be in Hayley. "I'm sure you got questions."  
  
"Only a thousand of them," Hayley said, before going on in a rush. "Like who are you? Why are you following me? Where the hell is everyone? And, if the people in this book really are my family, what happened to them?"

"I'm Eve," the stranger answered. "I'm following you because you brought an Original to Werewolf Country, which is pretty much the same reason why everybody else skedaddled. If you wanna know what happened to the people in that family tree, " she went on, "I'll sum it up nice and quick: Marcel happened."

"What happened?" I asked, frowning. "We've heard rumors, but nothing specific, just that he's responsible."  
  
"He killed most of them," Eve informed us. "Later, the descendants of the ones who dodged death, he strong-armed a witch into putting a curse on them."  
  
I didn't like the sound of that. Curses were serious business, in the worst sort of way.  
  
"What kind of curse?" Hayley asked, looking equally worried.

"Swap nature around," Eve explained. "Inside out. Made it so their natural state is wolves. They only turn back human on the full moon. We're hunted by the marks we carry," she continued, gesturing the the mark on Hayley's shoulder. "That crescent moon birthmark- that's why I got rid of mine. I didn't wanna get found out."

Suddenly, Elijah made a reappearance. Well, not suddenly. A glance outside made me realize that more time had passed than I'd thought; it was growing dark now, the sun setting and the shadows lengthening. "Good evening. Think I might have something which belongs to you," he added to Eve, holding out the stake she'd stabbed him with.  
  
"Are you okay?" Hayley asked anxiously.  
  
Elijah smiled at her. "The wound is healed, the fever is broken, but for some strange reason," he added pointedly, "I have this sharp and lingering sensation in my back."

I rolled my eyes. "If you're well enough to bitch about being staked in the back," I said reasonably, "then you must be feeling better."  
  
He just gave me a look.  
  
I gave him a overly bright smile before heading for the door. "Now that you're ambulatory again, let's get the hell out of here, okay? I've had enough of this place for one day."  
  
"She's right," Hayley said apologetically to Eve. "We really do need to get home. I'll be back though," she promised. "Soon. I need to know more."  
  
"Keep that mark covered," was all Eve said before stepping down from the porch and walking off.  
  
"What happened?" Elijah asked curiously, noticing the change in Hayley's demeanor.  
  
She gave a hesitant smile. "I just met part of my family."

* * *

Marcel's vampires surrounded Ezra and Klaus pretty quickly. It was obvious at a glance that they were very, very outnumbered. Klaus, though, didn't seem troubled by this. After a moment of self-assessment, Ezra discovered that he actually didn't care about their odds much, either. Which he supposed wasn't surprising.

He was just an unkillable as Klaus was, and these vampires had no interest in turning him over to his uncle. There was nothing they could do to him that would do him any permanent damage. Still, he was glad he'd managed to purchase the revolver. The weight of it in his hand was comforting, the metal cool against the skin of his palm.

Klaus took a moment to look around at their opponents again, then spread his arms wide. "Let's end this charade, shall we?" He raised his voice to make sure they all heard him. "Vampires of New Orleans! Do recall that I am an Original. _A hybrid._ I cannot be killed. Eternity is an awfully long time. How long, do you think, Marcel will stay in power? What if one of you lot were to release me, knowing I will be eternally in your debt? Oh, I would pity those of you who dared to cross me. I can assure you, your ends would be _spectacular_. To borrow a trick from an old friend," he held out a large coin, "whoever picks up _this coin_ gets to live." He dropped the coin to the ground, where it clattered around with a glint before settling. "Now, which of you magnificent bastards wants to join me?"

"Anyone wants that coin," Marcel said without missing a beat, "pledge allegiance to Klaus. Take it now. Go ahead. The choice is yours."

No one moved, and Klaus looked genuinely shocked by the loyalty Marcel's minions were displaying.  
  
Marcel, clearly not surprised, smiled in pride. "Take him," he ordered.

A handful of vampires rushed at Klaus. Ezra fired off two quick successive shots, the vervain-coated bullets tearing through the enemies' bodies and sending them crashing to the ground. Klaus took out the remaining attackers easily, flinging their bodies away from him once he'd finished.

They managed to keep the upper hand for a bit, but then some of Marcel's vampires managed to get chains around Klaus's arms, pulling at his wrists in an attempt to subdue them. For one tense moment, it looked like they might succeed, but then Ezra finished reloading his revolver and took three of them out with rapid headshots that sent them tumbling away like marionettes whose string shad been cut. Klaus finished off the rest easily as his hybrid powers surged, eyes glowing gold as he bit down hard on whatever vampire came near him. The toxicity of Klaus's bite, Ezra knew, would kill just about any of these vampires very quickly. They'd last maybe a couple hours, if they were lucky.

"Marcel!" Klaus roared. "Come and finish this!"

Marcel rushed forward, desperation etched on every line of his fine, but then Rebekah was there, clutching at the vampire in a way that made Ezra want to carve him into gator chow.

"No!" she said frantically to Marcel. "Take the coin!"  
  
Marcel looked at her in shock. "What?"  
  
"He won't stop until everyone is dead," she said urgently. "And he _will_ kill you too. End this. _Pick up the coin_!"

Marcel considered this for a long moment before lunging forward suddenly.

Ezra brought his pistol back up, aiming it right at Marcel's heart, just in case the vampire tried something. Everyone else in the room went very still as Marcel walked forward, the fighting coming to an abrupt halt. Marcel strode back to the center of the courtyard, bent over to pick up the coin, the straightened, holding it out to Klaus.  
_  
_ Klaus looked decidedly amused. "Well, well, well. The great Marcel, self-proclaimed king of New Orleans, bowing before me."

Looking disgusted with himself, Marcel tossed the coin down at Klaus's feet. "There. I hereby pledge my allegiance to you. You have the keys to my kingdom. It's yours."


	39. Chapter 39

" **One should rather die than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal, though ... betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope."**

* * *

Klaus stood by the window, turning the dagger over and over in his hand, the agony within him so great that he wanted to scream and rage. But he remained still, kept himself tightly leashed.

Rebekah, one of the two sources of his terrible pain, came into the room behind him. "Elijah's home," she said, her voice cutting into him like a million sharp blades. "There's only one dagger. Which one of us will you be punishing today?"  
  
"I contemplated a game," he replied slowly. "Of eenie-meenie-miney-moe." And then just like that his control frayed, and he sped over to her, grabbing her from behind and pressing the tip of the dagger into her throat. "You betrayed me," he hissed. "My own sister!"

Elijah came into the room. "Niklaus, don't you dare!"

Klaus released Rebkeah, stepping back to instead angle the dagger at his older brother. "Perhaps it should be you, brother!" He didn't bother trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Stealing my child away with every fawning moment of tenderness you show to Hayley!"  
  
"This has _nothing_ to do with Hayley," Elijah responded tightly.

"It has _everything_ to do with her!" Klaus snapped. "She's adored you since she arrived. And now _my_ child, _my_ blood, will grow up to call _you_ father!"

"Is that what this is?" Rebekah asked. "You are once again worried that you will be left behind?" She shook her head. "Has history taught you nothing? We don't abandon you, Nik," she exclaimed, "you drive us away!"

"Is that so?" he asked thickly. "What have I done lately, other than cooperate?" He gestured to Elijah. "I bow down to you, brother, to make up for daggering you. For the greater good of our plan to reclaim our home." He turned to Rebekah. "Looked the other way, sister, while you repeat the same cycle with Marcel. Falling again for a man you shouldn't be with, while he controls the empire that _we_ built! _That he took!_ " He took a shaky breath. "Now, I make no excuses for past sins. But in the one moment when you two could have chosen to stand by me..." He swallowed hard. "To believe in me. To believe my intentions for my own child were _pure_...you chose to stand against me, to side with my enemies." His voice dropped to a low whisper as he approached Elijah slowly. "I wanted our home back. Now I have it. So, I'm going to live there. And the two of you..." A tear slid down his cheek. "You can stay here together, and rot." He spun the dagger around and held it out to Elijah hilt-first.

Elijah hesitated, then took it. Klaus, with nothing more to say to either of his siblings, brushed past them without another word, not speaking again until he reached Hayley outside, where she sat waiting with Ezra and Zoe.

"You're coming with me, little wolf," he told Hayley.

She scoffed. "Why would I go _anywhere_ with you?"  
  
"Because, Hayley, that child you carry is the only thing on this earth that matters to me. Now you can fight me on this, but you will lose." He opened the passenger side door of the car and held it for her. "As will anyone else who tries to stop you getting in this car."

Hayley bit her lip, looking conflicted. In the end, though, she sighed and did as she was told.

"What about us?" Zoe asked uncertainly, exchanging a worried look with her brother. "We...don't have anywhere to go," she admitted unhappily, shifting from foot to foot uneasily.

Klaus frowned. "You can stay here," he told her.

"Hell, no," Ezra said, an undertone of hot anger in his voice. "After the shit those two just pulled on you? No way."  
  
Klaus stared at them.

"Betrayal is a hot button issue for us," Zoe said, and though her words sounded mild he could sense a familiar sort of fury within her as well. "And I don't think I can stand to be around Rebekah or Elijah right now, knowing that they turned on you so quickly like that." She shook her head as if she couldn't understand. "Family should stick together," she muttered.

Caught completely off guard by this unexpected display of loyalty from the twins, Klaus simply gave a nod and gestured for them to get in the car. Zoe and Ezra complied quickly, slipping into the backseat without any further discussion.

They were ten minutes down the road before he managed to get his vocal cords working again. "Thank you," he said gruffly.

Ezra gave a faint, fleeting smile that vanished as quickly as it had come. "You don't need to thank us for not being assholes," he remarked dryly.  
  
Zoe elbowed her brother in the side, shooting him a chiding look. "You're welcome," she said to Klaus.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, and Klaus found himself wishing he had the sort of relationship with his siblings that Zoe and Ezra had with each other. Things would be so much easier if someone would just be at his side when he needed them.

But it was too late for that now. Those bridges had been burned, shoddily rebuilt, then burned again. And this time, he was done trying to patch things up and redeem himself in their eyes. It was clear to him now, nothing he ever did would be good enough. He would always be lesser to them, a bastard who couldn't be trusted. And as much as that painful truth tore at him, it _was_ the truth. And it was long past time for him to accept it.

* * *

I really wasn't sure how I felt about the direction our lives had taken.

Yes, I was sure Ezra and I had made the right decision, leaving with Klaus and Hayley. Klaus could definitely be an arrogant dominating asshole, but any idiot with working eyes and half a brain could tell that he did care about his family. That he already loved the child that Hayley was carrying. So when Ezra and I had seen how quickly his siblings had turned on him, we'd sided with him and left the plantation house. Family betrayals, after all, were something Ezra and I understood all too well; Klaus could hide it behind his devil-may-care attitude, but we could tell he was in pain, and it was a pain my brother and I could relate to.

It seemed like we could relate to Klaus Mikaelson more and more lately, and that was also something I didn't know how to feel about.

I also missed Rebekah. She'd been my only real friend from the start, and not having her to talk to was making me realize how lonely I was; how isolated I'd been before coming to this city. Ezra missed her too, but whenever I asked him about it he just snapped at me and growled about Marcel. Recognizing it as a sore subject, I had started to refrain from talking to him about it.

And then there was Elijah. Not seeing him was a deep dull ache in my chest that never seemed to go away. I had no idea why the separation was dragging me down so much, but I was determined to ignore it. Yes, he was hot, and sure, he could be a nice guy. But if he was the sort of guy who'd turn on his baby brother based on the vengeful vitriol of one of said brother's enemies, then he was not the sort of guy for me. Loyalty was a quality I valued above absolutely everything else, and Elijah had demonstrated a notable lack of that in regards to Klaus. Sure, Klaus had been fucking up his and Rebekah's lives for centuries...but that didn't excuse the betrayal. For someone who'd repeatedly claimed to believe in Klaus and his possible redemption, he'd certainly jumped ship awfully fast.

Yes, I told myself. I was better off without Elijah in my life. Sexy suits be damned.

So when Klaus declared that we were going to have a huge dinner party to celebrate his return as overlord of New Orleans, I pasted on a smile and said "Sure." What better way to distract myself, after all, than with a party?

The Original hybrid eyed me suspiciously, as if he didn't trust my easy acquiescence. "No objections whatsoever?" he asked.

I shrugged. "You wouldn't listen even if I had any," I pointed out, rolling my eyes.

"I might," Klaus replied, feigning hurt before giving that aggravating smirk I'd grown accustomed to. "Possibly. If they were worthwhile."

I rolled my eyes. "Uh-huh. I'm sure you would."  
  
Klaus just gave me a patronizing pat on the shoulder. "Be a good girl and fetch a tablecloth from the linen closet, will you?"  
  
I bared my teeth at him in a sharp smile. "Do I look like your puppy dog, Klaus? Fetch it your own damn self."  
  
He tsked at me. "So rude," he said chidingly, though his tone was teasing. "Your brother should teach you better manners."  
  
"Where do you think I got the ones I have," I shot back, and he laughed.  
  
"True enough," he allowed. "Although I suspect if I asked your twin to fetch something for me, he'd react even more poorly, and I'd have to deal with him lunging for my throat."

"He's not one for taking orders," I agreed. "I'd advise against trying to tell him what to do," I added, looking at him pointedly.

Klaus put on an innocent expression. "Who, me? Give orders?"

I rolled my eyes again and pushed past him. "Which way's the linen closet?" I asked over my shoulder.

He gave an amused chuckle. "Second door down from the kitchen," he called after me. "Except I thought you didn't take orders, either?"

"You're welcome," I grumbled under my breath as I traipsed down the hall and retrieved the tablecloth he'd requested. I passed it off to the maids he'd hired on for the night, and a couple hours later we were all seated around a long table in the courtyard.

After a short time, Klaus tapped his fork against his glass to get everyone's attention. "Let us begin," he said, "with a toast to our shared gift: _immortality_. After a thousand years, one might expect life to be less keenly felt, for its beauties and its sorrows do diminish with time. But," he went on, "as vampires, we feel more deeply than humans could possibly imagine." He waved at the assortment of servers and waitstaff who were standing nearby, and they obediently came forward, one coming to stand by every guest; the only exceptions were Hayley, Zoe, and Ezra.

A moment later, as Klaus continued speaking, it became apparent why. "Insatiable need, exquisite pain..."The servants slashed knvies across their wrists, filling cups with blood for the vampire guests. "Our victories, and our defeats." Klaus glanced over at Marcel, and for a long moment seemed to be lost in thought. Marcel, likewise, seemed to be off in his own head somewhere, his expression distracted like he had something else on his mind. Given the whiff of Rebekah's scent I'd picked up on his skin earlier, I figured it probably had something to do with her.

I, personally, did not like the thought of her being in a relationship with Klaus's progeny, although my feelings on it certainly weren't as strong as those of Ezra, who had made a point of avoiding both Rebekah and Marcel since our arrival at the Abattoir.

But if Klaus was serious about mending fences with Marcel then it was likely my brother and I would be seeing more of the former Vampire King of New Orleans. And it seemed like whatever schemes Klaus and Marcel had in mind, they were going to at least play at the reconciliation game.

"To my city, my home again," Klaus concluded, raising his glass as he finished his toast. "May the blood never cease to flow..."

"...and the party never end!" Marcel finished for him, lifting his own glass.  
  
There was a long pause as Marcel's vampires looked at their former leader carefully. Finally, one of them, I think his name was Diego, echoed the toast, albeit unenthusiastically. "To New Orleans."

"To New Orleans!" Klaus repeated, giving a wide grin. The rest of us finally parroted back the toast. "New Orleans," we said, lifting our glasses and tipping back our drinks.   
  
"Now," Klaus went on, clearing seeing this as a chance to speak and be heard, "I understand that some of you may have questions regarding the recent change in leadership, and I invited you here tonight to assure you that you are not defeated. No," he assured them, the look on his face apparently sincere, "my intentions moving forward are to celebrate what we have. What Marcel, in fact, took and built for this true community of vampires."

"What about her?" Diego asked, pointing down the table to where Hayley was sitting, nursing her glass of cranberry juice. "The wolf."

Klaus slanted the other vampire a look that said he didn't appreciate being interrupted. "Had you let me finish, Diego, you would know that there is, of course, one further matter I would like to address."He stood up from his seat and walked over to stand by Hayley. "As many of you know, the girl is carrying my child. Consequently, I trust you will all pay her the appropriate respect." His tone indicated that a lack of respect would result in decapitations and disembowelment. "However," he continued, "I understand that some of you are concerned by this vicious rumor that I intend to use the blood of our child to create hybrids. I assure you I do _not_."

Hayley snorted. "Father of the year," she muttered, words laced with bitterness and sarcasm.

Klaus looked down at her, looking frustrated and just a little bit hurt, though the latter emotion vanished from his expression before it was really even there. "It appears I will have to earn your trust," he observed. "Very well. We'll eliminate the root of your anxiety. You see, how I can I sire any hybrids if there are no more werewolves alive in the Bayou to turn?" He gave a vicious smile, all teeth and menace.

I realized what he was planning half a second after he spoke, and I felt my body go stiff in outrage and horror. _Please tell me he isn't serious about this._ He couldn't be...could he?

Hayley caught on just a moment later, her face turning into a mask of alarm and terror. "What? Klaus, no!"

He ignored her completely, still speaking to the vampires at large. "So," he said to them, "eat, drink, and be merry. And, tomorrow, I suggest you have yourselves a little wolf hunt. Go ahead, have fun. Kill them all!"

The vampires dissolved in little chattering groups, all of them muttering and questioning about what had just been said. I could have listened in on their gossip if I'd wanted to, but I was too busy having an internal meltdown to care about what they said. Klaus was sending the vampires to kill the werewolves in the bayou.

Holy Mother of God, what was he thinking? Why would be do this?

What would make him, a werewolf hybrid, want to wipe out the only remaining werewolves in the area? They were already cursed, what more did he want? It's not like they were a threat! They were in hiding for crying out loud, and couldn't even take human form more than once a month! As I sat there and stared at my plate, I realized that I couldn't let this happen.

Yes, Klaus had showed a little bit of kindness towards myself and my brother; he'd forgiven our keeping an admittedly major secret from him, and had even allowed us to tag along with him when he'd left the plantation. But this...this was genocide, plain and simple. I didn't doubt that he had his reasons for it, and to him I'm sure they seemed reasonable, but this...I could _not_ allow this. But if I took action, it wouldn't affect just me. My actions would reverberate, and impact my twin as well. So I had to consider my choices carefully. Unsure of how to proceed, I turned to my right, leaning over to speak to Ezra. To my surprise, he was no longer sitting beside me.

Looking around, I discovered that he was walking around the table, slipping between vampires to approach Klaus. I swallowed hard, not sure what to expect. My brother was walking a fine line lately, and I may not have understood the exact reasons for his instability, but I knew how touchy he was lately. Klaus's little announcement could very well have been the trigger for a very nasty explosion of my brother's more violent side.

I was surprised yet again however, when my brother didn't immediately take a swing at Klaus. Instead, he tapped his lightly on the shoulder, and when Klaus turned to him with an inquisitive expression, all my brother did was say "Can I talk to you in private for a sec?", and his tone of voice wasn't upset or angry in the slightest. Anyone who didn't know him well wouldn't be able to see anything other than a man asking for a word with his friend.

I knew my twin well, though, and that very lack of feeling could be a danger sign, too. He was angry, I could tell; it clear was in he way he held himself, tense and loose at the same time, like he was ready for a fight. It was clear in the way his eyes had just a faint rim of gold and blue around the edges, a warning that his wild side was close to the surface and not in a good way. I rose halfway out of my seat, about to go after them as they left the room, but suddenly Hayley was at my side, tugging on my arm and dragging me away from the table.

"What?" I hissed at her as she pulled me over to a smaller table that held an assortment of desserts and sweet treats.

"What do you mean 'what'?"she snapped back. "You heard what I just heard, right?" Her grip on my arm tightened almost painfully. "He's going to kill all the wolves in the bayou! We need to do something!"

I glanced at her stomach pointedly; she wasn't far along enough to be really showing, but my message was clear. "Hayley, you aren't exactly in prime action girl condition right now."

"Which is why you're going to help me," she said insistently. "Between the two of us, we can warn them. We can save them. We just need-"

"To get away from the building full of vampires?" I drawled. "Who are under orders from Klaus to not let you out of their sight? Yeah, that'll be easy," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "No problem at all."

"Listen, smartass," she snarled, "those wolves in the bayou are my _family_ , understand? I don't even know them yet, but I can't just let them be slaughtered. We need to save them," she repeated emphatically.

I tugged my arm from her grasp, but I didn't really have a counterargument because what she was saying was exactly what I'd been thinking just a few moments before. We couldn't do it by ourselves, though; even with Ezra with us, we wouldn't be able to take down all the vampires without casualties on the werewolf side. Even if Ezra and I fought our hardest, some of the wolves in the bayou would still be killed, because no matter how good we were, we wouldn't be able to protect everyone at the same time, especially not when our first priority would be protecting Hayley. "We're going to need help," I told her, sighing as I realized that I was complicating my life. Yet again.

Hayley's brow furrowed in a frown. "Who?" she asked. "There's no one we can call."

"Elijah," I said after a long moment of thought. "He'll help you. Rebekah, too."

Her frown deepened into a scowl. "But I can't get in touch with them. I already tried calling once, and one of those daywalkers took my phone away."

I rolled my eyes because that was exactly the sort of stupid move a man would pull. "Men," I grumbled, then shook my head. "But whatever. We don't need to call them for them to come."

Now she stared at me in total confusion. "You've lost me," she admitted.

I wrinkled my nose at her. Was she really this dense? "Elijah will come for you," I told her, speaking slowly as if to a child. "Probably very soon. And Rebekah will come with him, because she's your friend. They're worried about you," I added. "They care about you, and they'll be worried about you being here alone with Klaus."

"But I'm not alone," Hayley remarked. "You and Ezra are here with me."

"We don't count," I replied, and talked over her objections. "Elijah doesn't trust anyone but himself to keep you safe, Hayley; he'll be coming for you, to save you from Klaus."

"But I don't need saving!" she exclaimed. "The werewolves in the bayou do!"

I shrugged. "So tell him that when he gets here."

* * *

"Can I talk to you in private for a sec?" Ezra asked Klaus once he reached him. He made sure to modulate his voice, to let out none of the wrath and rage that was simmering in his blood show in his demeanor.

Klaus looked over at him, frowning slightly in bemusement but not looking worried. "Of course," he replied, smirk tugging at his lips as he rose to his feet once more and led the way over to a small room adjacent to the main hall. "What do you have to say to me that can't be said in front of the others?" the Original asked, arching an eyebrow. "A love confession perhaps? Because if it is, _I_ must confess that while you are a good-looking fellow my tastes lie in more buxom beauties."

Ezra rolled his eyes, a spark of amusement mixing in with his fury despite the intensity of his anger. He took a deep breath before speaking, to make sure he had a strong enough hold on his temper; he could feel his wolf prowling under his skin, a hairsbreadth away from breaking through to the surface. His wolf had been more active than usual lately, a result of close proximity to many vampires and the fact that every time he encountered Marcel the other man reeked of Rebekah's scent. And just now, with Klaus declaring open season on the wolves in the bayou...Well, it had tripped all sorts of angry switches in Ezra's head, and as a result of the combining factors he needed to be very careful with his actions and reactions. So he took a deep breath. "What," he said at last, "the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

Klaus narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice taking on the barest hint of a warning.

Ezra crossed his arms. "You know exactly what I mean, asshole. What are you doing, putting out a hit on the werewolves?"

The Original's expression went blank. "I don't see where my decisions are any business of yours," he said curtly, moving to leave.

Ezra caught his arm and glared at him. "It's my business," he said through gritted teeth, "because my sister and I are wolves, too. As are _you_ ," he added, poking Klaus in the chest with his free hand. "So explain to me what exactly your master plan is here, because I don't see how slaughtering innocents who haven't harmed anyone is going to help anyone."

Klaus wrenched his arm out of Ezra's grip. "Why I ordered it isn't any of your business," he repeated angrily. "Now I suggest you reconsider taking that tone with me before I lose patience with your insolence."

Ezra snorted. "Do you even hear yourself when you talk?" he asked, shaking his head. "I thought I made it clear form the start," he went on. "I don't take orders from you, Klaus, and no matter how much I like you that is not going to change. So you watch your tone with _me_ ," he growled, feeling his wolf surge up. "Because I'm not in the mood to take any shit. So I'll ask again: What. Are. You. Doing."

Klaus glowered at him for a long time, and for a moment Ezra actually wondered if the Original hybrid might actually attack him. Lord knew he'd probably attacked others for less. But then Klaus just huffed out an irritated breath and stepped back, crossing him arms and looking at Ezra with an annoyed expression. "You are aggravatingly persistent," the Original remarked, sounding disgruntled.

Ezra shrugged. "I'm a Storme," he replied. "We're stubborn."

Klaus looked at him intently, then shook his head. "You're foolish," he said. "I could have ripped your head from your shoulders and tossed it out a window for speaking to me like that."

Ezra gave a wolfy smile, all teeth and menace. "I'd like to see you try."

Klaus snorted. "Foolish," he repeated.

Now it was Ezra's turn to shake his head. "Stubborn," he insisted. "Maybe a little stupid," he acknowledged with a wry smile. Then he scowled. "And you're diverting the conversation," he said chidingly.

Klaus huffed in annoyance again. "For your information," he said, sounding irritated. "I ordered them to eliminate the remaining werewolves in the bayou so that they would be less inclined to harm Hayley and the baby."

Ezra frowned, trying to wrap his mind around it. Then he got it. "You think they're worried about you using the baby to turn the wolves into hybrids," he said, voicing his realization out loud.

"If those werewolves are gone," Klaus explained, "then there is no one for me to turn. They will stop viewing my unborn child as a threat."

Ezra could see several flaws in that reasoning almost at once, but even so he relaxed just a little. At least Klaus _had_ a reason; even if it was a lousy ill-thought-out reason, it made sense. Sort of. It was something, at any rate. He and his wolf could understand that Klaus wanted to protect Hayley and their unborn child; it was the sort of motivation that made a person do desperate things. So while Ezra didn't like it and didn't really agree with it, he could still understand it. But he also couldn't let it happen. "You realize I can't let you kill a pack of wolves who haven't harmed anyone," he said quietly.

"Technically," Klaus noted, " _I_ won't be killing anyone."

"Semantics," Ezra snapped. "You're the one responsible in the end and you know it."

"And so what if I am?" Klaus demanded. "Would you attack me, Ezra? Would you try to kill me, for the sake of some werewolves you've never even met? Who probably wouldn't do the same for you, if the situation was reversed?"

Ezra growled at him, but said nothing. He didn't want to stand by and do nothing, but he couldn't deny that Klaus had a point. But still..."It's not a choice of you or them," he argued. "Because if it was then we wouldn't even be having this conversation. But that's not what this is about," he went on. "This is about you taking the easy way out."

"The easy way out?" Klaus repeated, disbelief etched onto his face.

"Yes," Ezra said firmly. "The easiest course of action to deal with the suspicion of Marcel's vampires is to remove the root of their suspicions. The wolves in the bayou who could be turned into hybrids are what's worrying them, and the simplest solution for that problem is to kill them. But it's not the _only_ solution, Klaus."

"It's the only option I have," Klaus snarled at him. "I don't have time to waste thinking of an alternative; that is a luxury I cannot afford when Hayley's safety is at stake."

Ezra wanted to argue more, to shake him and shout that there was time enough, that they could find a way. But then he noticed the guilt in Klaus's eyes, and the resignation. He wasn't making this decision lightly, Ezra realized as Klaus broke eye contact and looked away. And he wouldn't be doing it unless he had to. "Alright," Ezra said at last. "I get it. You did what you had to to." He sighed. "But I don't like it."

Klaus snorted. "You're not the only one," he muttered, then glanced back over at him. "What's going on with you lately?"

Ezra gave a little start of surprise. "What do you mean?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I know I've been preoccupied with other matters, but even as distracted as I've been it's hard not to notice your descent into some noticeably darker behaviors."

Ezra made a face. "Darker behaviors?" he echoed. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm fine."

"You're irritable," Klaus disagreed. "More on edge. More inclined to pick fights," he added, gesturing between the two of them in acknowledgment of the fact they'd almost come to blows. "Seeing as you spent the first portion of your stay in the city just as powerful but willing to keep a low profile, I'm curious as to what changed."

"Nothing changed," Ezra lied. "I'm fine."

Klaus crossed his arms. "Really," he said disbelievingly.

"Really," Ezra said firmly.

"Hm." Klaus looked at him carefully before speaking again. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with you avoiding Marcellus like he'd contracted the plague, does it?"

Ezra snarled at the other vampire's name before he could stop himself.

Klaus looked faintly surprised by his reaction then nodded. "So it is, then. But why? What has he done to make you so upset with him?" He frowned. "He's not sleeping with your sister too, is he?"

Ezra growled again; Marcel sleeping with Rebekah was what had him so worked up, but the idea of Marcel anywhere near his sister incited similar feelings of fury. "No. I'd rip his fucking head off."

Klaus nodded approvingly. "Can't say I haven't entertained the notion myself, the way he lusts after Rebekah so shamelessly. I don't know what she sees in him, crawling into his bed night after night."

Ezra had to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood to stifle the rumbling snarl that started to roll up and out of his throat. "Can we talk about something else?" he asked roughly.

Klaus frowned at him. "Your eyes are changing color," he observed.

"Blue or gold?" he asked, realizing that whatever the answer was, he was way to close to losing control.

"Blue around the edges," Klaus replied, looking faintly puzzled. "What does that mean?"

"That I'm about to lose my shit," Ezra answered, shutting his eyes and taking deep breaths. "Dammit. I didn't realize I was this close to the edge."

"I don't understand," Klaus admitted after a moment.

A faint smirk flickered across Ezra's lips at the admission. "It's my wolfside," he explained. "It's extremely strong, and when I'm overly emotional it can...assert dominance, I suppose you could say. Take control."

"Of you?" Klaus asked.

"No," Ezra said sarcastically, "of the itty bitty kittens I keep in my pockets." He shook his head, sucking in air and counting the beats of his heart. "Yes, Klaus, of me."

"No need to get nasty," Klaus said chidingly. "It was a simple question."

"Please stop talking," Ezra implored. "I need to concentrate." If he couldn't get himself and his wolf back under control, the ensuing havoc would be a bloodbath of epic proportions. To his surprise, Klaus heeded his request, subsiding into silence when Ezra wrestled with his inner wolf. It took some doing, but after several moments of silent struggling, he managed to subdue his wolf, at least to the point where he wasn't in critical danger of losing control. "I'm sorry," he said to Klaus once he straightened and opened his eyes. "I didn't mean for my self-control to slip like that." Feeling just a little bit guilty, he looked away.

"Ezra," Klaus said, his voice so sharp it made Ezra look up.

"Yeah?" he asked warily.

"...It's fine," Klaus said, coming over to pat him on the back. "Don't worry about it."

Ezra frowned at him. "I could have lost control and attacked you. That's not fine."

Klaus shrugged. "It's partially my fault, for dragging our argument on as long as I did. And I knew of your dislike of Marcel, even though I don't understand your reasons, so bringing up that particular subject when you're clearly in a foul mood was possibly not one of my finer moments. So. No hard feelings, alright?"

Ezra narrowed his eyes at the Original. "You're really not mad at me?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I'm hardly in any position to judge someone for not being able to control their emotions," he observed wryly. "Now, lets get back to the party, shall we?"


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD, PEOPLE, WE'VE REACHED FORTY CHAPTERS! Can you believe it?! I know I can't and I'm the one who's written them. XD Anyway, thanks to all you wonderful readers who follow this story so loyally. <3
> 
> In an case, this chapter is very important! For those of you who have been eagerly awaiting more about Ezra's history with Sirena and how he ended up with his heart literally carved out of his chest...well, she's finally here, folks! I can't say anything more than that without giving stuff away, so hurry and read onward! :D
> 
> Also, a slight warning for cursing/swearing and references/flashbacks to torture.

" **Losing your life is not the worst thing that can happen. The worst thing is to lose your reason for living."**

* * *

I grumbled under my breath as I followed Hayley across the compound, the two of us skulking in the shadows as if the vampires would somehow not be able to see us. "This is so freaking stupid," I muttered, feeling like an idiot for even agreeing to this plan.

"Would you stop complaining?" Hayley hissed at me. "We can't sit around forever, just waiting for Elijah to show up and save us. I'm tired of waiting for someone else to fight my battles for me; it's time we saved ourselves, don't you think?"

I bit my tongue to keep from pointing out the fact that only she felt a need for rescue; I was perfectly happy with staying here, and as far as I could tell, my brother didn't mind it either. But I also felt some sort of obligation to protect Hayley, something that likely had to do with those pesky wolf instincts, so I trailed along after her anyway. "I know I said Elijah would be your best bet to save the wolves in the bayou," I told her, "and I still stand by that, but I really don't see how getting caught sneaking out of the compound is going to accomplish much of anything."

"We can't sit around and do nothing," Hayley snapped. "We need to go and warn them that the vampires are going to attack."

I rolled my eyes. "They're not gong to let us just walk out of here, Hayley. They're under orders to keep you under strict surveillance."

And sure enough, just as we were hustling down the steps to a side door or the compound, a pesky vampire cut in front of us, blocking our exit.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

Hayley took a couple steps back, but I stood my ground, giving an overly bright smile. "We were just going to get some fresh air," I told him sweetly, trying to place his face before recognizing him as one of Marcel's friends, Diego.

"Nice try," the vampire said nastily. "But you bitches aren't going anywhere."

My smile morphed into something less friendly and more predatory. "Are you willing to bet your life on it?" I asked him, deadly serious.

His expression darkened and he took a step in my direction, but before things could really devolve into a brawl something very surprising happened.

Out of nowhere, Elijah appeared, and thew Diego into a wall so hard that his neck snapped. Marcel's friend went limp, his body falling to the ground in a heap.

Hayley looked equal parts ecstatic and horrified. "Elijah," she said to him, "you shouldn't be here. Klaus has his guys watching me."

"I wouldn't worry about them," Elijah said, giving a careless shrug.

I arched an eyebrow. "No? And why not?"

As if in answer Rebekah came around the corner, kicking two more nightwalkers into unconsciousness as she did so. "Because they're lamebrains and we're amazing," the blonde responded with a bright smile.

I laughed despite my misgivings; it was good to see her again, even with everything else that was going on. I'd been missing our friendship, and it had hurt. "Making an entrance as always, I see."

"You love me this way," she teased, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes but gave her a quick hug anyway before I followed her down the hall. "You know it."

Elijah, seemingly satisfied by my compliance with his and his sister's rescue plan, turned around and gestured for Hayley to follow and be quick about it. "Come," he said to her, "we mustn't linger. We'll get you someplace safe."

But Hayley shook her head stubbornly, pulling away. "No, you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine. I've been deemed under protection by the almighty Klaus." She snorted and shook her head in disgust before plowing on with her request. "It's the werewolves who need help," she told the two remaining Originals. "He ordered a wolf hunt as some jacked-up peace offering to Marcel's crew. You _have_ to help them," she said pleadingly.

"Out in the Bayou?" Rebekah asked incredulously, spinning back around to stare at the werewolf woman in disbelief. "Do we look like a bloody vampire-rescue-squad?" she demanded, looking annoyed. "I think you should be grateful we came to save _you!_ "   
_  
_ Hayley looked startled, but she didn't let the other woman's attitude stop her. "Listen. Rebekah. All my life, I've wanted to know who my real family was, and _just_ as I find out that they're out there in the Bayou, Klaus orders them killed." She swallowed hard, tears swimming in her eyes as her desperation rose to the surface. "You wanna help me? Help my people. _Please_."

Elijah still didn't look convinced. "Our first priority is to protect _you_ ," he told the pregnant wolf. "I understand how badly you want to get to know these wolves out in the bayou, but if it places you in danger-"

"I've been in danger from the moment I stepped foot into this stupid city," Hayley snapped angrily. "If I'm going to get killed over something, I'd rather it be because I'm trying to protect my family than just because I got knocked up by your brother!" She whirled to face me. "Zoe, tell him! Tell him he has to help us save them!"

I scowled at her, not quite sure when it had become 'us' trying to save her family; I was starting to notice a pattern of me getting dragged into things that didn't involve me, and I was growing increasingly displeased with it.

That being said, I _was_ pissed as hell over Klaus deciding to slaughter a pack of already cursed werewolves on a whim. So...I sighed, and turned back to Elijah. "We can't just let them be slaughtered," I told him, starting to feel resigned about the fact I was going to end up neck deep in trouble. Yet again. "Even ignoring the fact that they're Hayley's family, they're completely innocent in all of this. They haven't done anything to anyone. They don't deserve this."

Elijah bit his lip, looking uncertain. "But Hayley-"

"Can stay here at the compound while we go warn the wolves in the bayou," I responded, cutting him off before he could finish whatever he'd been about to say. "Don't argue," I added sternly when Hayley opened her mouth to object. "We all know that even if we took out every nightwalker guard here, Klaus still isn't going to let you traipse around town, no matter what the reason. Our chances of success go up if you stay here. With you here, all tucked in and safe, Klaus won't have any reason to wonder what else is going on. He certainly won't be wondering whether or not I've gone off with Elijah and Rebekah, especially since Ezra and I were so vocal about being pissed at them."

"You're angry with us?" Rebekah asked, looking startled, and just a little bit hurt. "Why?"

I couldn't help my frown as I glanced at her. "You really can't guess?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no. I knew you were mad about something, and that it was why you took off with Klaus when he left, but I didn't know exactly why."

I rolled my eyes. "Unbelievable," I said, shaking my head. "Look, never mind about that now. We'll talk about it later. If we want to get to the bayou in time, we need to get a move on." I pinned Elijah in my gaze. "I know you want Hayley safe," I said to him, trying to ignore how my stomach roiled at those words and the truth behind them; some part of me wanted Elijah to worry about me that way. To show me the concern and care that he showed her. But he didn't, and probably wouldn't ever, so I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on the here and now. "The best way to keep her safe right now," I told the Original, "is to help me keep those wolves in the bayou safe, because you can bet your ass that if  _we_ don't go out there, _she_ will." I jerked my chin in Hayley's direction. "Seriously. Does she look like she's about to let this go?"

Elijah looked back to Hayley, then clenched his jaw in frustration, because it was obvious that I was right. Judging from the unhappy glare he sent in my direction, it was equally obvious that he wasn't thrilled about it. "Very well," he said at last. "I will accompany Zoe and Rebekah to the bayou, and we will warn the wolves of the impending attack."

Hayley jumped forward to wrap him in an unexpected hug. "Thank you," she told him, voice ringing with gratitude. "Thank you."

Elijah hesitated, then returned her hug with a small one of his own, his lips quirking up in a small smile that made me want to snarl and throw things. I refrained, somehow, averting my gaze from the infuriatingly sweet couple and redirecting my thoughts to planning how to warn the wolves in the bayou before the vampires got there.

It was, I realized, going to be a little tricky.

Oh well, what the hell. It wasn't like I was one to balk at a challenge.

* * *

Ezra and Klaus were playing a really bizarre game of Go Fish in the courtyard the next day when Marcel came over to them. He took a moment to scowl in confusion at their eclectic assortment of cards before shaking his head and focusing on Klaus. "The humans have called a meeting," the former king informed him. "They're not exactly thrilled with the new status quo."

Klaus barely glanced at his old friend, instead looking intently at the cards in his hand. "How unfortunate for them," he said in a bored voice. "Have any fives?" he asked Ezra, almost as an afterthought.

Ezra handed over a five of spades wordlessly, slanting an unhappy look in Marcel's direction. His wolf did not like being in close proximity to Marcel. At all. Especially with Rebekah's scent clinging to him in all sorts of places Ezra didn't even want to think about. Honestly, he would have rather grabbed Marcel and ripped his throat out than sit there and pretend to ignore his presence. But Klaus and Marcel seemed to be on fairly stable is somewhat rocky ground at the moment, and he didn't want to mess up that balance. At least not right now, with the last bloodbath still fresh in all their minds.

"Look," Marcel said with a sigh, pulling up a third chair and positioning himself next to Klaus. "It's your show now. I get that. But you wanna know how I built what I built?"

"Not really," Ezra grumbled, holding up a four of hearts in a silent question to Klaus.

The Original gave a faint smirk and shook his head, gesturing to the deck of cards sitting between them.

Huffing in annoyance, Ezra drew a card and added it to his hand, still wishing he could be anywhere else in the city but sitting at a table with Klaus and Marcel.

"Politics," Marcel went on, completely oblivious to Ezra's discomfort, or perhaps just ignoring it. "A little diplomacy goes a long way," he told Klaus, "especially with the humans."

"Duly noted," Klaus replied evenly, before glancing at a paper Marcel held in his hand. Glancing at it, Ezra noticed that it seemed to be a copy of an old newspaper. "I haven't thought about this night in ages," he remarked. "1919, the opera house. Just before it burned." He shook his head nostalgically. "This was the end of an era."

Ezra rolled his eyes, and was about to make some sort of snarky comment, but was sidelined by his phone going off unexpectedly. Scowling at a number he didn't recognize, he excused himself from the table and exited the courtyard so that Klaus and Marcel wouldn't overhear the call with their pesky vampire hearing.

"Hello?" he said questioningly.

The honeyed voice that came across the line hit him like a fist in the gut. "Aww, how wonderful, you did pick up. How have you been, sweetie? Still hiding out in fleabag motels like a cheap whore?"

"Sirena," he whispered hoarsely, bile rising up to burn his throat even as his stomach heaved with nausea.

A low sultry chuckle. "Why, babe, you sound so unhappy to hear from me! Did our last night together really leave you so disappointed?"

Memories of his torture at her hands battered at him with a viciousness he almost couldn't handle. The feel of the knives across his skins, the razor-edged whips across his back, the silver manacles around his wrists...the excruciating red-hot agony as her blade had pierced his chest and gone in deep.

_"Aww, sweetie. You really thought it was real, didn't you? Silly boy."_

Pain, pain, pain, so much pain. He could still remember every single second of it, could still feel the anguish that had ripped through him from the physical and emotional pain she'd heaped on him.  
  
And he'd deserved every drop of suffering, because he'd been fool enough to fall for her trap.  
  
_"As if I'd ever sleep with a monster like you if I hadn't been ordered to."_

The weight of the memories almost brought him to his knees, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it wouldn't have surprised him if the damn thing thumped its way right through his skin. "What do you want," he gasped, trying to stave of the panic attack he could feel hovering above him.

"What, you don't think I just want to catch up?" Sirena asked, her tone all false innocence. "Honey, that hurts."

"Fuck you," he growled, trying to focus on his rage rather than his fear.

"You already did, babe," Sirena said with a laugh. "Many, many times. And just like every other man, you let your dick do your thinking for you. Honestly, I wasn't expecting you to be so _easy_ to capture _,_ not with all the bloody stories out there about how you and your bitch sister have evaded being caught before. But all I had to do was give you a little loving and you came crawling right into my lap for the taking. Really, it surprised me. Then again," she went on, "I suppose all animals are easy enough to tame so long as the circumstances are right." Her tone turned cutting. "And you're just another animal, after all. Nothing more than another beast to put down when the day is done."

"Fuck you," he repeated, this time snarling it. "My sister and I aren't rabid animals to be put down at your whim, bitch. I let you close before, but I won't again. So if you're coming after me, bring yourself a fucking body bag because you're going to need it for personal use." He hung up on her before she could respond, and lowered himself into a crouch on shaky legs, taking deep breaths in an attempt to level his heart rate.

His phone rang again as Sirena tried calling back, but he ignored it. It rolled over to voicemail, but the silence following the second call indicated that Sirena hadn't left a message, for whatever reason. After a few minutes of nothing else happening, Ezra took one last deep breath and moved to stand.

As he turned to head back to the courtyard to rejoin Klaus and Marcel, his phone chimed with an incoming text. _Meet me for lunch at the Waffle House or the girl dies._ It was followed by a picture message showing a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, tied to a chair and gagged, with a terrified look in her eyes. Dressed in a school uniform that Ezra vaguely recognized as that of the Lake Castle private school, the girl looked young and small and so, so vulnerable.

His wolf surged up in one massive violent wave, the fury and protective instincts overriding Ezra's own self-preservation and caution. Logically, he knew this was yet another trap; it was obvious that Sirena was baiting him. She was playing on his compassion, his inability to let her get away with ruining someone else's life.

And like an idiot, he was going to walk right into her arms. Again.

Even worse, he'd be doing it alone.

But he didn't see any alternative. Sure, he could tell his sister. But Zoe had her own phone turned off, and he didn't know where she'd gone. Last he'd seen her, she'd been muttering crossly about vampires and pregnancy hormones and general stupidity. She'd taken off somewhere with Rebekah early this morning and hadn't said where she was going or when she'd be back, so that ruled out his twin as back-up.

Which left...just Klaus and Marcel in the other room. And while he might have considered asking Klaus to back him up on this, asking for a favor from Marcel hit all sorts of hell-no-over-my-dead-body hot buttons for both him and his wolf. And there wasn't a good way to ask for Klaus's help without excluding Marcel, not when the two were chatting together so amicably right now. Offending Marcel by not including him would be satisfying to the petty side of Ezra that wanted to hurt the vampire however he could, but he could recognize that it wasn't a good idea for the long-term.

And that left him...pretty much entirely on his own, up against his psychotic assassin ex-girlfriend, who had gleefully tortured and maimed him to the point of insanity in the past and very likely wanted to do the same thing again.

Well, at least he could have lunch at the Waffle House first. That would be a brief bright spot before the bloodbath. He just hoped Sirena would let him finish his Cheesesteak Melt before she gutted him again.

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings once again for references to torture and abuse; pretty much a warning for Sirena in general. XD

" **Be strong - a phrase that is easy to say but hard to do when you're broken."**

* * *

"Anything?" Rebekah asked as she looked up to where I was perched in a tree, surveying the area for any sign of the vampires we were expecting.

"Nothing," I said with a sigh, swinging my legs in boredom. Then I scowled. "Wait, hang on." I peered more intently into the distance. "Okay, that asshole Diego from before is here. He's got a few other vampires with him, too." I watched as he ordered them to fan out and find the bayou werewolves. "Looks like they're starting the hunt," I added, looking back down to where Rebekah and her brother were waiting.

"We'd better get moving, then," Elijah said decisively, then vanished, disappearing in the blink of an eye with his vampire speed. Rebekah followed immediately after him, leaving me to scramble down from the tree on my lonesome and follow at a more normal pace.

"Bring me some heads," Diego was shouting at his vampires as they spread out to begin their wolf hunt.

"I'd really rather you didn't." Elijah remarked mildly, startling the other vampire with his unnoticed approach.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Diego demanded, taking another step back as I came to stand in between Elijah and Rebekah and gave him my best start-running-or-die smile.

"We've come to suggest you seek other hunting grounds," Elijah replied evenly.

Diego snorted, not looking concerned in the slightest. "Suggestion noted," he said sarcastically, moving to step around us and continue with his hunt.

Rebekah tsked. "Oh, Diego," she said sadly, giving a little pout. "It would be _such_ a shame to rearrange that pretty face."

I raised my hand like a schoolgirl in class. "I'm willing to partake in that necessary evil, should things get that far. And trust me," I said to Diego with a smirk, "I do not hit like a girl. Neither does she," I added almost as an afterthought as Rebekah took a swing at Diego as he was distracted by me.

He still managed to halt her swing, though, and glared at the three of us in annoyance and suspicion. "What the hell do you care about werewolves?" he demanded.

"They're just so adorable and cuddly," I said sweetly, batting my eyes at him. "We can't let you and your goons slaughter a group of such precious cuties."

Diego gave me a look that said I was ten brain cells short of being a bimbo and looked back to Elijah.

The Original vampire cast me an amused look before responding to Diego's question. "Generally," he replied, "I don't care. However," he went on, "this particular clan is not to be touched." He gave a thin smile. "Goodbye," he added pointedly, when Diego gave no indication of leaving.

After a long moment of looking between the three of us and calculating his odds of success, Diego finally took the hint and backed off. "Fine," he said sullenly. "Nothing here anyway." He whistled to signal his other vampires, who fell back to his position immediately, all of casting displeased looks in our direction. Diego gave them one final glare before leading his troop out of the bayou.

"Ah, great," Rebekah said once it was apparent that they really had left. "I think our job here is done."

I tensed up as the skin on the back of my neck prickled, my inner wolf growling in warning as I sensed someone else close by, watching us. "Not quite," I said warningly, lips pulling down into a frown as I glanced. "There's someone else nearby."

"Over there," Elijah said quietly, nodding to where a vaguely familiar woman stood half-hidden behind a tree, clutching a wooden stake in white-knuckled hands. "We're not here to harm you," he said to the woman, raising his voice to be heard across the distance. "Eve, wasn't it?" he added after a moment of consideration, giving a faint smile. "Hello, again."

It was then that I recognized her as the chick who'd stabbed Elijah in the back with a wooden stake. I decided then and there that I disliked her on principle. Logically, I knew I probably ought to have reserved judgment, especially since Elijah had been out of his mind and on something of a rampage when she'd staked him, but still. The fact remained that she'd staked him and neither my wolf half nor my human half were willing to forgive that anytime soon.

"You're the one from the shack," was all I said in greeting, curling my lip in just the barest of snarls.

Since she was a wolf with a lifetime of experience behind her, rather than an untaught wolf like Hayley or a bundle of identity issues like Klaus, she easily understood the wolf social cue and the fact that it meant that I wasn't particularly pleased with her.

She lowered her gaze from mine almost immediately, acknowledging my dominance in that unique way only wolves utilize, and some of the tension eased out of my body; so long as she understood that I wasn't to be trifled with and that attacking Elijah would bring down my wrath, I was content to let everything else run its course and watch as things unfolded.

Rebekah gave the bayou wolf an assessing once-over. "One of Hayley's litter-mates, I presume?" she sad at last, not looking especially impressed.

"Hayley sent you here to protect us, didn't she?" Eve asked.

"She did," I confirmed, feeling no real need to tack on the fact that I would have come anyway; no point in giving away my soft heart so soon.

Even shook her head, though I couldn't tell if it was in disbelief or simple weariness. "Tell her we appreciate the concern, but we've been looking out for ourselves for a while now. Nobody finds us unless we wanna be found."

Rebekah snorted in amusement. "Well, we found you, so..."

Even gave her a pointed look. "Like I said." She turned to Elijah. "There's something I thought you and your family should know about." And without another word, she took off down a dirt path with nothing in her hands but a thin wooden stake and what seemed to be a map of some kind.

Exchanging puzzled looks, the three of us followed after her, wondering what new development was around the corner.

* * *

Ezra looked at the Waffle House menu with his jaw clenched. And it wasn't the indecision between Coke and iced tea that was making him tense. It was that this place was absolutely packed with people. Not only was it a nightmare from a security standpoint (he couldn't possibly keep track of all these people at once and it was making his wolf all kinds of twitchy), the family units gave Sirena plenty of cannon fodder should she decide to turn this meeting into a bloodbath. She knew him well enough to know that he'd protect innocent bystanders rather than himself, and being a completely ruthless bitch with no heart, it wouldn't be surprising in the least for her to twist that to her advantage and use the other restaurant patrons as hostages to force his cooperation.

He glared at his menu with such intensity that he felt certain he could burn a hole it in with his gaze alone. He would have transferred that glare to something else, but his wolf was so touchy and close to the surface he couldn't risk it; if he accidentally met eyes with a stupid human, it could end in some sort of dominance dispute, and his wolf tended to get bloody about those. So he focused on his menu, counting the seconds until Sirena arrived and his world imploded. Again.

He didn't have to wait much longer. Roughly ten minutes after he ordered a tall glass of cold Coke and started sipping at it, the entrance opened with a jingle. A breeze blew in after the woman who entered, and Ezra recognized her scent immediately; the black wig and sunglasses couldn't do anything to mask the scent of honeysuckle and poppies that was uniquely hers.

She approached his table with that seductive saunter that had once made him tense with want. Now all it did was make him sick to his stomach as he remembered all the damage she'd done. Not just damage to his body, but to his mind and soul as well; he knew that something inside of him had been broken when she'd betrayed him and torn him apart, and seeing her in person, even disguised as she was, only served to drive that damage home.

"Hello, darling," Sirena purred as she slid into the seat across from him. "You're looking well."

Ezra curled his lip at her, hyperaware of the fact that lunging across the table and tearing her throat out was probably not the best course of action since they were in the middle of a busy diner. "No thanks to you," he said flatly, waving away the waitress when she came to take their orders. "What are you doing here, Rena? What do you want?"

She gave a simpering smile that made him want to rip her face off. "Why, only to spend some time with you, baby." She reached across the table and took his soda, sucking on the straw in a way that could have been interpreted as flirtatious had he not known what a monster she was on the inside.

"Why. Are. You. Here," he repeated, letting just a little of the wolf creep into his voice and eyes to let her know that he wasn't in the mood for her games.

She gave a little sigh and set the glass back down, flicking her fingernails at him in a gesture of aggravation. "You were so much more fun before I carved out your heart," she complained.

"Sorry to be a killjoy," he told her sourly. "But being tortured doesn't seem to bring out my party side."

Sirena snickered. "Shame. I know playing with you back then brought out mine."

Ezra clenched his hands on the edge of the table to keep himself from doing something rash, like strangling her. "Where's the girl, Rena?"

Sirena gave a careless shrug. "Bound and gagged in the trunk of my rental car. Don't worry, she's perfectly safe. So long as you cooperate, of course."

"Of course," he said through gritted teeth. "And what is it you want my cooperation with?"

She gave a sickly sweet smile that made his blood run cold. "Why, sweetie, I thought you'd never ask. We're going to go for a nice little drive together, just like the good old days."

* * *

Rebekah wrinkled her nose at the werewolf encampment. "All these wolves really travel in style, don't they?" she said sarcastically, casting a scathing look at the surrounding trailers and tents, which were all in various states of wear and tear.

"Being on the run isn't glamorous," I said sharply, recalling all the times Ezra and I had hidden out in the middle of nowhere in miserable conditions, all just to keep ourselves free from our uncle. "It's not their fault they're forced to hide out in the bayou. That's Marcel's doing," I added bitterly.

Rebekah looked away guiltily, as if her current relationship with Marcel made her to blame by association.

Elijah, meanwhile, opened the door of one of the trailers and poked his head inside. He came back out a moment later, shaking his head. "Empty."

I huffed in annoyance, crossing my arms. "This is ridiculous. Eve says she wants us to meet this other group of wolves that need our protection and sends us out here to do that, and yet there's absolutely no one around." I kicked at the ground in frustration. "If they really are new to the area, they shouldn't be running around, so where are they?"

"Piled on the pavement perhaps?" Rebekah suggested. "I mean, if they are foolish enough to leave their camp with vampires hunting them, I wouldn't be surprised."

I sighed unhappily at the thought that they might already be dead. "We don't know for sure either way," I said. "And we shouldn't leave until we know."

Elijah gestured for us to continue searching. "So let's proceed then."

Rebekah let out a sound of supreme boredom. "Let's not, and tell Hayley that we did." She passed Elijah a knowing smile. "Then, you get to impress the girl, and Zoe and I can go home. You know how hovels depress me," she added lightly.

I suddenly became very intent upon inspecting one of the other trailers, doing my best to tune out their conversation. Discussion of how Elijah fancied Hayley was probably one the last things in the world I wanted to hear.

But I couldn't ignore Elijah; as much as I wanted to not hear his response, I couldn't block out his voice, either.

"I'm not trying to impress the girl," he replied, though it was clear from the faint smile on his face that even he didn't believe that.

Rebekah, of course, was having none of his denial. "I should bloody hope you are!" she exclaimed. "Or else why are we out here?"

Elijah gave no answer, just shrugging a bit.

His sister rolled her eyes. "Come on, Elijah," she said. "You've fallen for her, admit it! May do wonders for that stick that's lodged up your enduringly stoic arse if you do," she added.

I snorted in amusement despite myself; trust Rebekah to phrase it in the most affectionately offensive way possible.

"If I admit that it's complicated," Elijah said at last, clearly recognizing that his sister was not going to let the subject rest without some sort of answer, "would that suffice? Or are you determined to torment me through this entire endeavor?"

My inner wolf snarled at his almost tacit admission of having feelings for Hayley. My wolf nature didn't like that he cared for her; _mine, mine, mine_ was thrumming through my blood in time to my heartbeat, and it began to occur to me that this infatuation I had on Elijah might just be something a little more serious than I'd realized.

Before I had time to really stop to assess the ramifications of that, though, I heard a low wolf whine, followed by the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh. I whirled around, and saw that the vampire hunting party had returned; one of their number had pinned down a male werewolf and was viciously feeding from his neck.

My vision turned red as a fierce rage took hold of me. A vampire was feeding from a werewolf, and the wolf in me was not going to let such an offensive attack go answered. Before I could second-guess myself, I darted forward and tackled the feeding vampire with all my strength. He went sailing through the air to crash into a nearby tree so hard that we could hear his spine snap before he fell to the ground. I crouched over the fallen wolf protectively, pressing a hand to the gaping wound on his neck in an attempt to staunch the hot blood that was still pulsing out of his body.

Another vampire rushed at me but I lifted my head and let loose a snarl so powerful it made the air around us vibrate. "One step closer and you die a painful death," I growled, feeling my eyes shift just enough to let the vampire know just who and what he was messing with. I no longer cared if Elijah and Rebekah learned that I was a werewolf; with my little display it was all but guaranteed, and I couldn't bring myself to care. I would rather be exposed for all to see than let another werewolf be killed when I could have stopped it. These bayou wolves may not have been my pack, but to a werewolf that doesn't matter when faced with an outside threat; an ordinary wolf wouldn't help a wolf from another pack, but we were human too, and our humanity allowed us to override those instincts. When it's werewolves versus the world, you learn pretty quickly that sometimes you need to band together to survive, even when you usually wouldn't.

The vampire I'd snarled at took several steps back, looking to his leader for guidance. Diego, looking furious at my interruption, strode forward and raised a hand as if to strike me.

Elijah intervened, appearing so suddenly that if I'd blinked I would have missed it. One second he'd been back with Rebekah, the next he was grabbing Diego by the hair and wrenching him away from me. "Darling," he said to Diego in an icy voice, "we need to stop meeting like this. This is how rumors begin!" He released Diego with a shove, pushing him so hard that the other vampire stumbled. "You can go now," he added in what was clearly an order.

And yet none of the vampires moved, just glancing at each other uncertainly. A few of them even looked at the Originals in idiotic defiance, as if not believing in the danger.

Elijah sighed in annoyance. "Perhaps I'm not making myself clear here," he said. "This is a threat." He fixed them in his piercing gaze. "In precisely three minutes' time, your little hunting party will become the prey. Now," he went on, "based on your recent failure to subdue my baby brother Niklaus, despite better than a hundred to one advantage, I suggest you heed my warning."

Diego, looking frustrated and more than a little humiliated, muttered a curse and looked as if he wanted to argue, but I let another growl rumble up out of my throat, underlining Elijah's threat with an implicit one of my own: continue on with this stupidity, and I'll show you what a wolf can _really_ do.

Diego finally seemed to realize that this was not going to end well for him or his cronies. With one final blistering curse that would have made me laugh had I not been so furious, he stormed off with his little hunting party.

"Impressive," Rebekah remarked, giving me and her brother a little round of applause.

"Well," Elijah replied, "I thought the situation demanded something a little dramatic." He paused before continuing. "Although I must admit, your reaction was even more...interesting, Zoe."

I slanted him a wary look, knowing that my eyes were glowing wolf-gold around the edges and not sure how to feel about him and his sister knowing what my brother and I had been fighting so hard to keep secret. "Interesting how?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well, I must confess to my surprise," he admitted. "After this much time in close proximity, I feel as if I should have realized your true nature."

I snorted. "Don't lose too much sleep over it," I advised. "I've gotten good at hiding who I am."

An expression I couldn't identify flickered across his face at my words, but before he could speak again the werewolf I was hovering over regained consciousness with a groan. "We'll discuss this more later," was all Elijah said to me before re-focusing his attention on the werewolf on the ground.

Knowing that an injured wolf wouldn't be comfortable with a stranger so close, I rose to my feet and took a couple steps back; close enough for him to get my scent, but far enough away so as to not be an immediate threat. "How are you feeling?" I asked him, making sure to keep my voice gentle and undemanding.

He struggled to sit up and then hauled himself into standing position through what seemed to be sheer willpower alone; I know that if I were a normal werewolf, having my throat ripped open would have left me lying on the ground in recuperation mode for at least a few hours. "Who are you people?" he asked us, shooting suspicious looks between Elijah and Rebekah, and then giving me a thoroughly bewildered look, as if he couldn't understand what I was doing in the company of two powerful vampires.

I couldn't blame him; I didn't know what the hell I was doing with them, either. I'd already more than held up my half of my original agreement with Rebekah; I should have been long gone by now, and yet here I was. "We're not going to hurt you," I told him instead. "You can relax."

That only seemed to make him tense up more; obviously, he didn't trust my word. "Who are you?" he asked again, his tone a little more forceful this time.

"Zoe," I said shortly, offering my hand to shake.

He eyed me like I was covered in fleas, not moving to take my hand in his. "I'm Cory," he replied flatly, before turning back to the Originals. "And the two of you?"

Elijah looked as if he was about to answer, then frowned as he caught a glimpse of the necklace Cory was wearing; it seemed to be a ring strung on a piece of leather cord, and though it didn't look familiar to me, clearly Elijah recognized it from somewhere, because his jaw tightened and curiosity sparked in his eyes. "I would say the better question is," he said, "who are you?"

* * *

Ezra sat in the passenger seat of Sirena's sleek silver Mercedes convertible, wishing not for the first time that he'd just died the day Reginald had cursed him and Zoe; it would have saved him so much pain and despair. He didn't know if he believed in any sort of afterlife, but anything had to be better than what he'd gone through is this blood-soaked joke of a life he'd had since that day.

"Aw, come on, honeybuns," Sirena cooed from beside him. "Why the long face? Not liking the scenery?"

They were zooming down some random road he didn't recognize; a glance at Sirena's GPS told him that they were headed for an isolated marina area but not much else. "The scenery's fine," he replied flatly. "It's the company that's making me ill."

She gave another one of her false pouts, batting her long lashes at him. "You keep saying things like that, you're going to end up hurting my feelings."

"You don't have feelings," he snapped, wishing he had a dagger on him so he could just reach across and stab her in the chest. But she'd made him leave all his weapons behind in the parking lot of the Waffle House. When he'd tried to debate her demand, she'd threatened to strip search him if he tried to hold onto so much a single blade, so he'd chucked them all in one of the dumpsters behind the building without further argument; he rather be dipped in acid and buried alive than have her lay a hand on him again.

The one silver lining was that Sirena had shown him the schoolgirl she was holding captive in her trunk. The girl was unconscious, drugged according to Sirena, but seemed relatively unharmed. She'd be in for a world of therapy once she was freed, but at least she'd be alive.

Provided, of course, Ezra went along with whatever it was Sirena wanted. They weren't driving towards Baton Rouge, where Reginald had supposedly relocated to, so he knew she wasn't taking him to his uncle. Not yet, at least. Which meant that Sirena, psycho that she was, probably wanted some good quality torture time with him.

 _Because the first time was just so much fucking fun_ , he thought blackly, struggling to not let the memories rise up and suffocate him.

Sirena heaved a put-upon sigh, as if his surly attitude was a disappoint to her, and reached out to turn on the radio. Charli XCX's _Break the Rules_ immediately started blasting out of the stereo system so loudly that it made Ezra cringe and put a hand to his forehead in a futile attempt to stave off what was going to become a pounding headache if the volume stayed so high.

"Oh, sorry, sweetie," Sirena said, voice dripping with false sympathy. "I forgot, you mutts have such sensitive hearing, don't you?" She tsked. "Well, that's a shame, because I love my music loud, and the driver gets to choose the song." She flashed him a bright smile that promised terrible things. "But maybe you could persuade me to change it?" she added suggestively, licking her lips in anticipation.

The implication there was loud and clear, and it made Ezra want to hurl. He barely managed to bite his tongue and keep his honest answer from spilling out: that he hated her, wanted her dead, and would sooner roll naked in a pool of pit vipers than touch her even one more time. "This song is fine," he said instead, voice strained.

Her expression turned from flirtatious to deadly in the span of a heartbeat, letting him know that even if he hadn't said his true feelings out loud, she was clever enough to know what he really meant. The dark glitter in her eyes made Ezra's stomach do another nauseating flip. "Oh, honey," she told him in a low voice, "you're going to regret that."


	42. Chapter 42

**"My only fear is losing you."**

* * *

I followed after Rebekah and Elijah as they ascended the steps to the plantation house. I should have been returning to the compound to check in with Ezra and tell Hayley about our relative success in protecting the wolves in the bayou. Instead, I was returning with them to the plantation so we could further discuss something unexpected we'd discovered on our little mission.

I wondered what poor person would need to break the news to Klaus. I hoped it wouldn't be me.  
  
Pulling out my phone to call my brother and let him know that I was running late, I gave a puzzled frown when the call rolled straight to voicemail.

" _This is Ezra,_ " the recorded greeting said. " _I can't answer right now, so leave a message and I'll get back to you. Maybe._ "

I hung up without leaving a message because, much like Rebekah with her own voicemail messages, my brother never checked them. I sent him a quick text instead, a simple _Everything okay?_ because it wasn't like my twin to have his phone off, then tucked my phone back into my pocket. I chewed my lip a little nervously, a slim tendril of worry starting to wrap itself around my heart, but I shook it off and entered the plantation house.

"I can't believe you never told me that you're a werewolf," Rebekah complained as I joined her at the liquor cabinet. "Honestly, Zoe!"

"What?" I said defensively. "It's not something I advertise, okay?"

"Still. We're friends, right? Friends aren't supposed to keep secrets from each other!"

I crossed my arms and scowled at her scolding tone. "Says the one sleeping with the enemy. How long have you been seeing him, Rebekah? And you never breathed a word of it to me!"

Rebekah slammed her glass down a little harder than necessary. "Because Marcel is not the enemy! And who I see is no business of yours," she snapped. "Don't turn this around on me."

I managed to refrain from snarling at her, but only just. "You're the one trying to pick a fight," I said angrily. "Don't blame me if you can't take the hits."

And just like that, she deflated like a punctured balloon, shoulders drooping as she hung her head. "I am acting horrible, aren't I?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Zoe. It's just...it was a shock, realizing that you'd been keeping something like that from me all this time. I'm not...I don't like secrets, not anymore. I've had to live in a tangled web of them for too long, and I just..."

I wanted to stay angry at her, but seeing how tired and sad she looked I couldn't quite seem to manage it. Besides, arguments and secret-keeping aside, she was still my friend. "It's okay," I told her, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. "I'm sorry I hid it from you. But you have to understand," I went on, needing to explain, "it's not because of you. It's because I just...don't trust _anyone_ , really. Ever. You're my friend, but with everyone in New Orleans hunting werewolves the way they are...and with my uncle being so close now...Ezra and I just couldn't take the chance, Rebekah. We just couldn't."

She gave me a shaky smile. "I do understand, Zoe. You're just trying to keep yourselves safe. It's fine."

She patted me on the shoulder and moved to walk into the living room. "What's not okay," she said, raising her voice to be heard by Elijah who had gone upstairs, "is that now I smell of the bog!"

I laughed at her complaint as I followed after her, then froze in place as I saw Klaus seated behind the piano. Clearly, he'd been waiting for his siblings to return.

"Serves you right," Klaus said to his sister. "For your pathetic attempt to undermine my rule."

I heaved a sigh, walking over to sit on the couch and remove myself from the line of fire as Elijah came and joined us, having apparently heard his brother's voice from upstairs.

"Nik, listen," Rebekah began, but Klaus cut her off.

"When I order werewolves to be hunted to extinction," he said angrily, "I expect you to stand aside and let the blood flow."

I bolted up off the couch. "Does that include me, too?" I demanded, unable to keep quiet. "Because if it's an anti-werewolf policy you're aiming for, we're going to have some problems, you and I."

Klaus waved away my words dismissively. "I don't recall asking for your opinion, Zoe Storme. I don't need _anyone's_ approval for how I deal with the werewolves."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "How delightfully democratic of you," he said sarcastically, before tossing a ring across the room to his brother. "Do you recognize it?" Elijah asked him. "Perhaps you don't," he acknowledged. "It has been a thousand years since you last saw it grace the hand of our mother. The ring was in possession of one of the very wolves whose extinction you just ordered," Elijah explained at his brother's inquisitive look. "So, naturally, I questioned him. He spoke of a legend."

Klaus looked like he wanted to throw the ring he was holding in Elijah's face and storm out, but he stayed. "What legend?" he asked after a long moment.

"A legend," Elijah told him, "wherein long ago, a chief of theirs had fathered a child to a very powerful witch. Their mythology further states that this child, a son, was later transformed into something this clan had never before seen. Something werewolf _and_ vampire."

"Nik," Rebekah said, going over to him. "We're trying to make amends. We found remnants of your family. The bloodline of your true father. And we saved them from being slaughtered at the hands of the vampires _you_ command," she added.

"Niklaus," Elijah said plaintively, "your ambitions have come before this family for far too long. I beseech you please, come home."

"What home?" Klaus snapped. "This pathetic substitute?" He glanced around and scoffed before turning back to his siblings. "You see, despite all your doubts, all your attempts to thwart me, I've reclaimed our true home. I took back the _entire_ city."

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say because Elijah's eyes turned dark with anger. "You have the audacity to boast of your victory when the mother of your child remains your prisoner?" he demanded.

Aaaaaand there we were. Hayley again. Why, I wondered irritably, was she always the first person on his mind? What about Hayley was so damn special?

Klaus, bizarrely enough, echoed my own sentiments as he sneered at his brother. "It all comes down to the pretty little wolf, doesn't it, brother?" he said snidely.

Rebekah threw up her hands in exasperation, clearly fed up with both of them. "Stop it, both of you!"

Klaus stepped around form behind the piano and set the ring down on top of the glossy black surface. "Even if this is what you say it is," he told his brother, "I have had enough of family to last me a lifetime. Why would I possibly want any more?" He shook his head and moved to leave.

"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm before he could get all the way out the door.

He gave me a glare that could have frozen molten lava. "Let go," he told me, his tone a clear warning.

"Don't give me that look," I snapped. "I'm not trying to pick a fight here."

"So what are you doing, then?" he asked, ignoring the curious looks his brother and sister were shooting in our direction. Obviously they'd expected their brother to storm out and not look back, but me latching onto him had caused a dent in those expectations.

I swallowed hard. "Ezra's not with you?" I needed to be sure, because it was possible that he was still lurking around here somewhere and I just hadn't picked up his scent.

Klaus looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. "No, he's not."

My grip on his arm tightened without me meaning for it to. "When I left this morning he said he was going to stay with you the entire day," I told him, trying to keep calm as the tendril of worry started to turn into true anxiety. "You were going to play cards and shit, and go to some stupid meeting with the Faction. Right?"

"Yes," Klaus said slowly, as if he wasn't sure where I was going with this. "But he left this morning."

My heart pounded painfully in my chest. "What? Why?"

Klaus shook his head. "I don't know. He was with myself and Marcel this morning, at the compound. But he stepped out to take a call and never came back. I had assumed the call was from you," he added. "That you'd called him to ask for assistance with...something."

I arched an eyebrow at that, because it was clear from his tone of voice that he knew damn well that my 'something' was helping the wolves in the bayou. Which meant he'd known of my intentions to go protect them from the start, and had also been aware of the possibility of Ezra leaving to help me do so and didn't seem to mind; I wondered at the implications of that, especially since had made such a big deal out of it with his siblings and yet didn't seem terribly upset at me.

But I put it from my mind for the time being, because I had much more urgent priorities right then. "So you haven't seen Ezra all day?" I pressed. "Or heard from him at all?"

Klaus shook his head, a look of faint worry crossing his face. "No, I haven't." He pulled out his phone and punched in my brother's number.

"I already tried that," I said automatically, but he ignored me, focused on the call.

"He's not picking up," he relayed a moment later, hanging up as his call went to voice mail.

"I told you," I said, chewing on my lip anxiously before turning to Rebekah. "Have you heard from him at all?"

She gave me a totally baffled look. "Why on earth would he be calling me?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes at her obliviousness but didn't explain. If she couldn't pick up on the fact Ezra had a massive crush on her, I wasn't going to be the one to spill the beans. Especially since crazy Klaus had an unsettling habit of attacking anyone who so much as looked at his precious little sister with any sort of romantic interest. "It isn't like him to be out of touch like this," I said instead, looking back at Klaus desperately. "Something's wrong."

To my surprise, he nodded in agreement. "Let's go back to the compound," he said. "Perhaps someone there knows where he went."

I swallowed hard. "Okay."

We were just getting into his car when suddenly Elijah and Rebekah slid into the backseat.

Klaus snarled at them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I should think the answer to that would be obvious, Niklaus," Elijah said smoothly, pulling his car door closed. "We're coming with you."

"Why?" Klaus demanded suspiciously.

"Because Ezra is our friend, too," Rebekah told him, reaching across the back of my seat to squeeze my shoulder in comfort. "We'll help you find him."

It seemed like Klaus wanted to argue, but I made a frantic flailing motion. "Can we please just go and find my brother, please? We can all tear each other to pieces later, okay?"

Klaus looked at me, seemed to realize that I was one wrong step away from completely flipping out, and wordlessly put the car in drive and hit the gas.

We arrived at the Abattoir not long after, and I wasted no time in tumbling from the car and bolting into the compound, frantically shouting for my brother.

"Ezra!" I called out, knowing I sounded hysterical and not caring. "Are you here? Ezra!"

I ran up to his room and threw the door open, but he wasn't inside. Judging from the faintness of his scent, he hadn't been here all day. Stepping back into the hall and walking through the rest of the compound, it was the same. His scent was in a handful of places, but nothing even remotely fresh.

As I rejoined Klaus and his siblings in the courtyard, I really truly began to panic. "He isn't here," I told them, fear clawing at my heart as I struggled to not hyperventilate. "He isn't here!"

Klaus vanished, using his vampire speed to investigate himself. He returned a moment later. "I spoke with some of the others," he told us. "They haven't seen him since this morning, when he was with me."

"Could have Marcel done something?" Elijah asked.

"Impossible," Klaus said. "He was with me the entire day."

"You're sure?" I asked.

He considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. We spent the majority of our day dealing with the Faction. He wouldn't have had time to do anything to Ezra ."

"So who the bloody hell has him?" Rebekah demanded, then paled. "Your uncle?" she asked me.

I had to bend over and take deep breaths to stave off the fear that those two little words put in me. But after taking a moment to think it over, I shook my head. "No," I said weakly. "He can't be directly responsible."

"How can you be sure?" Elijah asked.

"Because if he'd taken Ezra," I replied hoarsely, "he'd have already called to taunt me about it. And possibly sent me a hand or something to drive it home."

Rebekah's eyes widened in alarm, but Klaus nodded like he understood. "He wouldn't take Ezra and not brag about it," he concluded.

"Yeah," I agreed weakly.

"So someone else has him," Elijah remarked. "But who?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea. We...We try to lay low, but...well, we have made our fair share of enemies," I admitted. "I thought we'd covered our tracks well enough, but maybe someone found us...?" Then something occurred to me. "I can track his cell phone."

"Really?" Rebekah asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah," I said. "We have this computer program on my laptop, to track the GPS signals of our phones. We only have it as an absolute last resort in case of emergencies, because it's not totally secure and anyone with enough hacking skill could get in and find us using it, but..."

"Do it," Klaus ordered. "And be quick about it."

Normally I would have taken exception to the order and the tone in which it was delivered, but I was so desperate to find my brother I let it slide. I raced for the steps, taking them two at a time and then sprinting down the hall to my room. I hadn't bothered to unpack my things from when Ezra and I had first moved in here with Klaus after that first blowout with his brother and sister, so my laptop was still in my bag. I pulled it out, turned it on, and waited impatiently for my desktop screen to load. Once it did I logged into the compound's wireless internet and pulled up the tracking program.

I typed in the information for Ezra's phone and waited impatiently as the program searched for a match, biting my lip so hard that I tasted the coppery tang of blood. "Please, please, please..." I chanted over and over again, not sure who I was begging but needing to get it out anyway.

Three minutes and forty-two excruciating seconds later, the results popped up on the screen.

I stared at the stated location in complete and utter bafflement. "He's at the Waffle House?" I said in disbelief.

"What's he doing there?"

The sudden voice right behind me startled me so badly that I jumped out my seat so fast that I knocked over the chair in my haste. "For the love of God, Klaus!" I exclaimed, heart pounding. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He gave me that annoying little smirk before looking past me to my laptop screen. "What the devil is he doing there?" he asked, leaning forward to peer at the GPS information. "Strange. It says that his location has remained the same for over ten hours."

I scowled. "My brother likes waffles," I said, "but not that damn much."

"That's the location by the I-10 service road," Klaus remarked. "Why go out that far? There are about a dozen other diners closer to here."

"This doesn't feel right," I said fretfully, twisting my hands together nervously. "This isn't Ezra, Klaus, and you know it. He doesn't do things like this. He wouldn't take off without telling anyone. He knows how I freak out if I don't hear from him, and he wouldn't just leave without telling either of us when he planned to spend the whole day with you, helping you deal with the Faction. He wouldn't, Klaus, _he wouldn't!_ "

"Okay, okay, calm down," Klaus said quickly, cutting me off because I'd started yelling. "We'll find him, I promise." He glanced over his shoulder and I realized that Elijah and Rebekah had heard my shouting and come to see what was going on. "We found his last location," he told them, gesturing to the computer screen. "We'll go investigate and proceed from there."

To my immense relief and surprise, they nodded in agreement and headed back downstairs. I took a moment to clear out the GPS program and shut down my computer before following, Klaus close on my heels as if he felt it necessary to keep a close eye on me so I didn't fall totally to pieces.

I didn't bother telling him that no amount of supervision was going to save me from falling apart if we didn't find my brother safe and sound. I had a feeling he probably wouldn't have been surprised even if I had told him; for all that he argued and fought with them, it was obvious that he still loved his brother and sister, and I didn't doubt for a minute that he'd be equally as desperate to find them if our positions were reversed.

We drove from the compound over to the Waffle House by the interstate, pulling into the parking lot and getting out to look around. After walking around a bit, I discovered his latest rental car parked in the corner of a lot, almost entirely obscured from view by the minivan he had parked beside. "I found his car!" I called to the others, and they quickly joined me in inspecting it.

"It doesn't seem to have been tampered with," Elijah remarked after a moment. "He must have left with someone else."

"Maybe he got a hot date?" Rebekah suggested, looking over at me hopefully.

I made a face. "No. He doesn't pick up girls," I told her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I snapped. "His last girlfriend betrayed us and strung him up to torture. I'm sure." Annoyed that they didn't trust my own knowledge of my brother, I stormed off, heading for the Waffle House front door. As I reached out a hand to pull the door open, I froze in place as a familiar scent rose up from the metal bar. It was faint, and buried under the scents of the other people who'd come and go through this door during the day, but there was no mistaking that scent. That flowery scent of poppies and honeysuckle that could only belong to one person.

"Oh my God," I whispered in horror. "It's her."


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in regards to the story, Ezra's not in a good way in this chapter. He's being tortured, so head's up to anyone who might have issues with reading about that. Also, be aware that Zoe, being really, really upset right now, is going to be using some pretty nasty language. So...sorry about that, too. XD
> 
> I repeat: this chapter contains torture and cursing and a fair bit of just general unpleasantness. So if that's triggering for anyone, tread carefully. Thank you. <3

" **The worst kind of pain is when you're smiling just to stop the tears from falling."**

* * *

Ezra could feel the silver chains burning the skin of his wrists and forearms as he dangled from the ceiling, waiting for his torturer to return, but he was doing his best to ignore the pain of it. He was also trying to ignore the fact that his heartbeat was dangerously irregular from the potent aconite solution Sirena had injected into his bloodstream. He tried to focus his attention other things instead, like wondering where Sirena had taken his shoes and socks.

He knew _why_ she'd taken them, that had become agonizingly obvious once she'd started carving patterns into the bottoms of his feet with sharp silver daggers...he just wondered _where_ she'd taken them. Had she thrown them out, or were his shoes sitting abandoned in some corner somewhere, hidden away in this abandoned building that reeked of rotten fish?

Sirena returned to him from wherever she'd gone and grabbed his chin in an unforgiving grip, her long blonde hair spilling down her back now that she'd ditched the black wig. "You still alive, mutt?"

 _'Course I am_ , he wanted to say. _Can't die, bitch._

But his lips were cracked and caked in dried blood, and his throat was raw and hoarse from from screaming. So all he managed was a weak croaking sound, and Sirena laughed.

"Aw, poor little mutt," she said, clucking her tongue at him in fake sympathy. "All chained up like a junkyard dog." She laughed again and pressed a hand against his chest, alarmingly close to the jagged scar that telegraphed her original damage to him, all those months ago.

Her nails dug into the fabric of his now-tattered shirt, actually piercing through the cotton to jab into his skin, as she leaned forward to whisper in his hear. Her breath tickled against his skin as she told him in sickeningly descriptive detail all the plans she had for his next round of torture. He tuned her out after she started going on about methodically breaking all the little bones in his hands and feet and what tools she was going to use for it. He didn't particularly want to know what was coming; chained and drugged as he was, there was no way for him to prevent the next round of agony, and it would eventually all heal anyway.

Assuming, of course, that he managed to get the hell out of here at some point. As it was currently, his odds of escape weren't looking so good; if he took too much more damage, his body was going to shut down and go into what he and Zoe called 'recovery mode'; he'd be pretty much comatose, and if that happened, he would be totally screwed. Not only would be be completely at Sirena's mercy, he wouldn't be able to even consider escape, not until his wolf took charge and forced him back to consciousness.

Suddenly, Sirena was in his face and grabbing a handful of his hair, yanking his head up. "Are you listening to me?" she hissed, clearly not happy he'd been zoning out during her villainous monologue.

He curled his lip and growled at her, the angry rumble painful on his raw throat but satisfying as hell.

Sirena flinched briefly, then retaliated by backhanding him, the edges of her silver rings cutting sharply into his skin from the impact. "Stupid mutt," she snapped. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" She gave one last painful tug on his hair before releasing her hold on him and stepping back. "Well, fine," she said after a moment, giving him a wide smile. "We'll play a little more, and see how defiant you still are after I'm done."

* * *

"Sirena?" Rebekah repeated, looking at me in confusion after I'd elaborated a bit on whose scent I'd picked up. "Who the hell is she?" she asked, then recognition lit up her eyes. "Wait. When Ezra got impaled by that arrow in the bayou," she recalled, "he said that name, Sirena. Called her a bitch, I think," she added.

"Bitch is the nicest word I can think of for her," I said angrily. "She's a two-faced backstabbing psycho skank!" I stomped over to the car and yanked open the driver-side door, sliding in and fumbling for the keys Klaus had left resting on the dash. "I'm going to rip her fucking face off for daring to come near him again!"

The Originals quickly joined me in the car, sliding in and shutting their doors as I started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires.

"Do you even know where to go to find her?" Elijah asked, his voice infuriatingly calm.

"No," I snapped. "But that's not going to stop me from looking." I heard his sigh and bared my teeth in a silent snarl. "If you have any fucking suggestions, I am all ears, Elijah." Although truth be told, I actually _did_ know where I was going; I was just pissed at being questioned like I was some sort of moron.

Elijah's eyebrows rose at my heated tone, and he exchanged an unreadable look with his sister before turning back to face the front where I was driving with Klaus riding shotgun. "You said she betrayed you once before; what happened?"

I curled my lip at the memory. "She seduced Ezra," I growled. "She was an assassin witch hired by our uncle to capture us and bring us in, but we didn't realize that until it was much too late." I smacked a hand hard into the steering wheel. "She was a goddamn honeytrap, and we fell for it like idiots!"

"Technically," Rebekah pointed out, "only Ezra got snared by the honeytrap. Unless you were sleeping with the bitch, too," she tacked on.

I made a disgusted face. "Ugh, no. Even if I were into women, she's not my type. She was always very...sly. Clever, but not in a good way. We didn't realize it right away, because she's just that good of an actress. By the time I started to really get uncomfortable about having her around, it was too late, and she'd already kidnapped my brother."

"How did she manage that, by the way?" Klaus asked suddenly. "Both this time and before. Because I've seen your brother fight," he commented, "and he is exceptionally ferocious. I can't imagine a single woman, even an assassin with magical support, taking him down alone."

"Because she cheats," I replied sullenly. "The Shadow Coven has developed a unique wolfsbane serum that can completely incapacitate a werewolf. Ezra and I are only half wolf, but the aconite is still very poisonous to us."

"Well, that's not surprising," Elijah remarked. "Wolfsbane can be deadly even to normal humans with the right dosage. Your unique genetics might actually make the serum more effective, rather than less."

I flickered my eyes up to the rearview mirror to glare at him. "Thank you, Elijah. That's exactly what I want to hear right now, that my brother is twice as susceptible to the drugs that Sirena's going to be shooting him up with! Thank you so much for that!"

He pursed his lips and sighed. "I was only commenting on a possible reaction to the serum. I didn't mean to upset you further."

"Well, you did!"

"Can you please watch the bloody road?" Klaus snapped, reaching for the wheel as we careened dangerously close to the center lines.

I smacked his hand away and corrected the car's course. "Don't be such a whiny baby," I snapped. "My driving is fine."

"Says the girl who totaled her Jeep," Rebekah observed dryly.

"We were run off the road by assassins," I countered defensively. "Hardly my fucking fault."

"Do you even know where you're going?" Klaus asked, echoing his brother's earlier question and somehow sounding equal parts exasperated and curious. "Or are we really just going to drive through the city all night, hoping to stumble across your brother and his psychotic ex-girlfriend?"

I gritted my teeth, reminding myself that Klaus wanted to find my brother too, and that being nasty was one of his defense mechanisms. "As a matter of fact," I said, pulling onto a street I remembered, "I do."

He scowled at me, looking confused, but Rebekah spoke up from the backseat.

"This isn't far from where we found you in the road!" she exclaimed.

"Almonaster," I agreed, pressing down on the gas and pushing the car to go a little faster.

"Why here?" Elijah asked, looking out the windows at the scenery we were passing by.

"Because this area is where I was brought when I was kidnapped. And even if Sirena isn't working together with Patrick Evans, at the end of the day they both still work for my uncle, regardless of what they do on the side."

Klaus arched a brow at me expectantly. "And?"

I huffed at him in annoyance. "And I tracked down the ownership papers for that warehouse Evans held me in. It took a lot of digging and no small number of personal favors, but I found out that it's owned by a shell company my uncle uses to disguise his holdings. If Sirena is here on orders from Reginald, and I don't doubt that she is, even if she's going off-script to torture my brother...well, the Shadow Coven doesn't own property, or even rent it. It's against their rules. All the properties they utilize for their operations are provided by whoever hired them."

"Meaning that she has to be using a building owned by your uncle," Elijah realized.

"Exactly," I said. "And I found out about one other building he owns here in New Orleans. It's an old fish packing plant that shut down almost a decade ago; he bought it but never did anything with it."

"You think that's where Sirena's holding Ezra," Rebekah guessed.

"I don't think," I replied. "I _know_ it." I couldn't put it into words, but as soon as I'd calmed down enough to think straight, I'd been absolutely certain of it. Maybe it was the logic of it, maybe it the connection I had with Ezra, that twin bond. But I _knew_ that my twin was in that building.

I also knew that there wasn't anything I wouldn't do to get him out of there.

* * *

Ezra gasped for air as Sirena released her iron grip from the back of his head and let him lift his face out of the aconite-laced water she was dunking him in every forty seconds or so. He could feel his skin blistering from the wolfsbane, and his eyes were tearing up and burning so badly it was a miracle he could still see. His wolf half, at first roaring with fury and seething with a need for blood and revenge, had long since retreated deep into his consciousness, that fierce presence just a whisper in the back of his mind, a wounded predator trying to protect itself from more harm. Ezra didn't hold it against his wolf; if he could have run away and hidden, he would have, too.

Sirena made a sound of disgust and kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking him down onto the cold concrete floor in a trembling heap. "God, you're so pathetic. What happened to the mutt who swore to rip my heart from my chest in exchange for the one I took? Or is that another promise you're too worthless to keep?"

He rolled over and managed to lift his head enough to glare at her. "I'm not the one who broke faith," he rasped. " _You_ betrayed _me_."

She kicked him again, this time hard enough to cave in two of his ribs and make him cough up blood. "What the hell would a mutt know about being faithful?" she hissed. "Nothing! You're nothing but a worthless dog!"

Another savage kick, and then she was hauling him up by his hair again and shoving his head back into the trough of poisoned water. He struggled but couldn't break free; between the wolfsbane injections and the wolfsbane in the water, not to mention the silver chains still wrapped around his wrists, he was the weakest he'd been since Zoe had first rescued him from Sirena's grasp back in Baltimore.

He eventually couldn't hold his breath any longer, and his body's instinctive need to take in air overrode everything else. Of course, he was trapped underwater, so the fierce inhale of his lungs resulted only in choking on more aconite-laced water that burned his lungs and throat like acid. His body spasmed from both the water and the wolfsbane, and his vision whited out for one brief moment as oxygen deprivation hooked its claws into him. Just before he could really truly drown, however, Sirena was yanking him out again, and tossing him back onto the ground with cruel abandon.

He coughed up the water in his lungs, the hacking eventually turning into pained wheezing as the water all came up and he was left with nothing but pain and blood. Panting and wishing he could just die and get it over with, he managed to twist his body around enough so that he could press his forehead into the cool concrete floor. The wolfsbane and silver were making him so feverish that it felt like he had slow-moving lava running through his veins rather than blood. With his skin so hot, the chill from the floor felt like heaven, even though the texture aggravated the blisters on his skin.

But even that reprieve was taken from him as Sirena yanked him back up from the floor and started dragging him back to where he'd been hanging from the ceiling earlier; clearly, she intended to string him up again and bring out some more fun and inventive torture implements.

 _Please_ , he thought desperately, _please just let this end._

_Someone, anyone, please. Get me out of here. Please._

As if in answer to his plea, a sudden bang echoed throughout the warehouse. Another one followed, and after a moment, Ezra realized that it was coming from the metal doors by the delivery entrance. A third bang followed, and Sirena finally released her hold on him to lunge for the computer she had set up on a nearby card table. Sitting amongst the bloody pliers and other assorted tools she'd used on him, the computer was connected to the security cameras on the exterior of the building. Sirena, preoccupied as she was with breaking him, apparently hadn't noticed the approach of a car containing four very pissed of immortals.

He scrambled to his knees to try and see the computer screen and gaped at what he saw.

Zoe was hammering on the metal doors, using a newspaper stand as a battering ram. And the look on her face was _terrifying_. Even with the poor resolution of the video feed, it was obvious that her eyes were a bright burning gold and her lips curled in an angry snarl. She looked like a wrathful goddess of retribution about to rain hell down upon the world.

He'd never been so happy to see his sister in all his life.

But what really shocked him was who accompanied her. In all his imaginings, he never would have guessed that anyone else would have bothered to come to try and save him.

He certainly wouldn't have bet money on it being the Mikaelsons.

And it wasn't just Klaus, either; Rebekah and Elijah were with his sister, too.

_Rebekah..._

The doors flew open with a screeching sound, and Zoe stormed in with long purposeful strides, tossing aside the newspaper stand as if it weighed no more than a broomstick. "Get the fuck away from my brother," she snarled, eyes glowing gold.

Sirena cursed and snatched up the handgun she'd left sitting on the edge of the card table. "I have to admit," she said with a wild grin. "I wasn't expecting you to find me so soon. Took you, what, four days the last time?"

Zoe let out a fierce battle cry and lunged forward, moving faster than Ezra could track in his miserable state.

But Sirena was quick on the draw, and fired off several shots before Zoe could get close. Most missed, but one hit his sister's leg and another buried itself in her shoulder. She stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to regain her balance, her expression one of fury and pain.

Before Ezra could really process what had happened, Elijah was in front of Zoe, as if he were trying to protect her. Rebekah flanked Zoe on another side, while Klaus had come up beside his brother, eyes narrowed on Sirena in a way that promised terrible painful things.

"Are you alright, Ezra?" Klaus asked, raising his voice to be heard while never taking his eyes off of Sirena.

"Just fucking fantastic," Ezra rasped. "Thanks for asking."

A slight smirk quirked up the corners of the Original hybrid's lips, but it vanished quickly as he focused all his attention on Sirena. "It was a very foolish thing to do," he told her coldly. "Taking one of our number from us."

Sirena sneered at him, not looking intimidated at all. "What does a vampire care about a pathetic mutt like him? Trust me, even if I could kill him, it's no great loss."

Ezra closed his eyes as her words ripped yet another hole in his already shredded soul. He already knew he was worthless, but hearing it from a woman he'd once loved with his entire heart still tore him apart inside.

"Let him go right now," Rebekah said, speaking into the silence. Her voice was shaky but determined, and the sound of it caused Ezra's wolf to stir and reawaken. "Let him go, and maybe we'll let you leave here alive."

Matching sounds of disagreement from both Zoe and Klaus; it was obvious that regardless of whatever Rebekah said, they weren't going to let Sirena go so easily. Elijah just gave a slight sigh, and Ezra opened his eyes just in time to see the eldest of the Originals use his vampire speed to charge straight at Sirena.

The witch screamed, and threw up a spell shield that knocked Elijah back long enough for her to make a mad dash for the doorway.

"Not so fast," Klaus snarled, moving to chase after her.

"Wait," Zoe cried out, grabbing his arm. "I need your help with Ezra."

"Someone needs to go after her and make her bleed," the hybrid argued, his voice a growl.  
  
"You think anyone wants to make her bleed more than I do?" Zoe demanded. "Fuck no. But I need your help with my brother. Come on."

And then Zoe was there, and Ezra could breathe again. His twin knelt down and pulled his head into her lap, running her fingers through his blood-soaked hair. "Oh, Ez..." Tears slid down her cheeks.

"Don't cry,"he whispered hoarsely, reaching up a trembling hand to wipe away a tear. "It's not that bad."

"Yes, it is!" Zoe countered, her voice soft but fierce. "You're all torn up, and it's all that bitch's fault! Again!"

"Enough," Elijah said, kneeling down to pull one of Ezra's arms around his shoulders. "Save this for later. Niklaus," he added, glancing over at his younger brother, who still looked like he wanted to run down Sirena and decapitate her, "get over here. Help me carry him."

Ezra shifted uncomfortably, giving an unhappy little growl at having everyone crowd around him. He was injured and weak, and his wolf didn't like having so many threats so close.

To his surprise, it was Klaus who comforted him in that regard.

"It's okay," the hybrid said, his voice uncharacteristically soothing as he rested one hand lightly on the back of Ezra's neck while he snapped the chains around Ezra's wrists with the other. "You're going to be okay. Just let us get you home, and then we'll leave you alone to heal."

Rebekah opened her mouth to argue but a quelling look from Elijah had her shutting her mouth. After a moment of hesitation, she approached their little huddle and touched Ezra gently on the cheek. "You're going to be okay," she told him, repeating her brother's words with a gentle strength that turned the words into a promise.

And when she said it, he believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooooooookay, yeah. A lot happened in that chapter, huh? What did you guys think? Good, bad? Did you enjoy seeing Zoe be clever and badass? Was everyone believable/reasonably in-character? Are we all ready to go grab sharp weapons and help Klaus chase down Sirena? Did you like how everyone came together to help rescue Ezra, even though the Mikaelsons aren't quite seeing eye-to-eye on their own issues right now? A lot happened in this chapter, and I know I don't normally pester you guys to leave feedback, but I would appreciate hearing what you thought of this latest chapter. ;D


	44. Chapter 44

" **I can't promise to fix all your problems** **, but I can promise that you won't have to face them alone.** **"**

* * *

Getting Ezra back from Sirena's clutches had been much easier than I'd expected. That being said, simply getting Ezra into the car and back to the compound proved to be trickier than any of us had anticipated. Especially since we didn't end up back at the compound at all.

Klaus and Elijah managed to carry him out of the building easily enough, with Rebekah racing ahead to unlock the car while I followed close behind the boys. Klaus and Elijah carefully bundled Ezra into the backseat and I wasted no time in scrambling in after him. Ezra gave a sigh of relief as I joined him, but then gave a low wolf whine when Klaus left and went around to get into the driver's seat. Klaus and I exchanged baffled looks before I realized what it might be.

Ezra was badly injured, and it was true that both he and his wolf would perceive other strong beings as potential threats right now.

But Klaus was also his friend, and wolf enough to maybe be considered pack, at least from Ezra's perspective. That bond might have been enough to made Ezra, and his wolf, want Klaus nearby.

As I sat thinking it over, Ezra gave another plaintive whine which decided me. Scooting over and changing position to make room for Klaus, I quickly waved at him to get in the backseat. "Let Elijah drive," I told him when he gave me a dubious look. "Ezra and I need you back here with us."

An indecipherable look crossed his face as he hesitated, then he gave a crisp nod and passed the car keys to his brother, smoothly sliding into the backseat on Ezra's other side. Elijah and Rebekah exchanged faintly surprised looks, as if they hadn't expected their brother to comply so easily, if at all. Then Rebekah gave an elegant shrug and slid into the shotgun seat. Ignoring her seat belt completely, she twisted around to look at Ezra with worried eyes, her concern clear in her face.

The look on her face was so powerful, I wondered if maybe my brother's crush on her might not be so entirely hopeless after all.

That hope quickly died, though as I recalled what Ezra had just been through. He'd been actively avoiding relationships and even hookups since his first torture session at Sirena's hands; ever since Baltimore, even being approached by a woman was enough to make him uncomfortable. With this latest development...well, let's just say that if my brother were to decide to become a full-fledged recluse, I wouldn't blame him. I also wouldn't be surprised.

Once Ezra slipped into an uneasy slumber (or maybe he was just passed out; either way he needed the rest so I wasn't going to complain), I glanced out the window to see how close we were to the compound. To my alarm, we weren't in the Quarter or even headed in that direction.

"Where are we going?" I asked Elijah suspiciously.

"Back to the plantation house," he replied calmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Since returning to the plantation house was not part of my plan, I shook my head. "What? No! We need to get back to the Abattoir-"

"Where dozens of disgruntled vampires are waiting?" he questioned. "Do you really trust them not to attack your brother? With the condition he's in? Not to mention the fact that he can't disguise his werewolf nature right now?"

I bared my teeth at him in a silent snarl, but had to admit that he had a point. Marcel's vampires already disliked my brother for his involvement in Klaus's takeover. If they saw the state he was in now...they'd go for his throat with no hesitation. "Alright, fine," I said at last. "Take us to the plantation house. He and I will stay there until he heals enough to not be helpless."

"Wait a second," Klaus said in objection, just as we were pulling into the driveway. "You can't both leave; I need someone I trust to stay at the compound and watch over Hayley!"

I glared at him. I could understand where he was coming from, especially the implication that he didn't trust Marcel or the other vampires, but that didn't change my position. "And I need to stay with my brother." I kicked open my car door and carefully pulled my brother out with me, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him upright as he trembled from the exertion.

"You can't stay here," Klaus said angrily, coming around the side of the car to help me walk Ezra inside. "You can't!"

The wolf in me rose to the surfaces, hackles up at the command in his tone. The second we were into the house and had lowered Ezra gently down onto a couch, I spun around to growl at him. "I'd like to see you try and stop me," I snapped.

Klaus growled right back at me, looking furious. "Do you not understand how important it is that I keep Hayley safe?"

"Do you not understand how important it is that my brother is safe?" I shot back. "Because I understand that Hayley is your top priority, Klaus; she seems to be everyone's lately. But _my_ first concern is _always_ going to be my brother, and that's not about to change."

"Nik has a point, though," Rebekah chimed in. "Ezra will be safe enough here with us. But Hayley is surrounded by the enemy, with no one to protect her."

"Whose side are you on?" I demanded, feeling just a little bit hurt by the fact that she wanted me to just abandon my brother there. Okay, yeah, so he'd be there with two Originals to look after him, but I wasn't rational when it came to my brother's safety. If he wasn't with me, I couldn't be sure that he was really okay. And when I wasn't sure that he was okay, I had a tendency to either fall to pieces or go on a massive murderous rampage. Occasionally both.

Since I'd already had my rampage of the day, however, falling to pieces seemed to be my only option right then. It certainly felt that way, when tears of frustration started to burn at the corners of my eyes and my throat started to feel too tight. "I am not leaving my brother here when he's so hurt!" I said, my voice choked. The very thought of it made me feel like someone was wrapping an icy hand around my heart and squeezing with intent to shatter.

And then suddenly Elijah was there, putting his hands gently on my shoulders. "Zoe," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Your brother will be safe here, I give you my word. No harm will come to him, I swear."  
  
I wanted to argue. Really, I did. But something about Elijah and the way he said that...like he really _meant_ it. Like he actually believed that promises were still worth something. His grip on my shoulders helped somehow, too; it was like his touch was grounding me when it seemed like I was about to shatter apart and disappear.

I took a deep breath, and then another. After a few more careful inhales and exhales, I'd managed to level myself out enough to think rationally about the situation. Elijah just waited patiently the entire time, watching me with this look on his face like he was willing to stand there with me all day until I got my shit together. It was...really touching, actually.

That little kindness more than anything else helped me to make up my mind. "Okay," I said slowly. "I'll leave Ezra here. But you'd better keep him safe!" I added fiercely, reaching out to fist my hand in Elijah's shirt without quite meaning to. "If anything happens to him while he's here I'll never forgive you. _Never._ Understand?"

His eyes were kind and sympathetic as he nodded. "Yes," he said, smiling just ever so slightly as if my threats amused him somehow.

Rather than making me more annoyed, that little smile did strange things to my pulse, and it was then that I noticed the strong steady beat of his heart underneath my hand. Suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he and I were standing in extremely close proximity to one another, I stepped back. Stepped back so quickly, in fact , that I very nearly tripped over my own feet.

Then my brother groaned from over on the couch and everything else fell away from my mind except the need to make sure he was going to be okay. I hurried over and knelt down, pressing a hand lightly to his forehead. His skin was still hot to the touch, likely the result of the wolfsbane and silver poisoning he'd endured during his captivity. Since there was no antidote for aconite poisoning and no way to counter the silver in his bloodstream either, there was nothing to do but let it run its course until it was out of his system. If he were mortal, undoubtedly he would already be dead, but the immortality curse would keep him alive regardless of how poorly off he was.

I swallowed hard before leaning forward to press a soft kiss into his hair. "You awake enough to hear me, Ez?" I asked in a low whisper.

He blinked his eyes open groggily, eyes hazy with pain and exhaustion. "Mm-hmm," was his only response, but it would have to be enough.

"I'm going to leave you here with Rebekah and Elijah, okay?" I ran my fingers through his hair. "They're going to look after you for me, okay? Ezra?"

My twin scrunched his face up in an unhappy expression before answering. "Don't...want...to be separated," he managed at last, his breathing ragged from speaking through his damaged throat.

I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug, trying to not hurt him by pressing on any wounds but needing to touch him and let him know that I loved him even if I was leaving. "Me neither, Ez. But Hayley's all alone at the Abattoir. Klaus needs help watching out for her, and there's no one else to do it until you get better." I squeezed him even tighter. "You'll be safe here with Elijah and Rebekah," I repeated. "And I'll be back tomorrow to check on you, okay? Promise."

Ezra gave a little sigh and pressed his face into my hair, inhaling my scent. "Okay," he said at last, voice hoarse. "I'll stay here. For now." He pulled away slightly and looked past me to where Klaus was standing, watching us with a shuttered look, his face expressionless. "You look after my sister," he said to the Original hybrid, somehow managing to look stern in spite of the blisters across his cheekbones and the blood streaked across his face. "I'm holding you responsible for her safety."

Klaus snorted. "I think we both know that she's more than capable of looking after herself," he noted.

Ezra growled at him, clearly not liking that answer.

Klaus raised his hands, looking exasperated. "Fine. I'll keep an eye on Zoe. Look after her like she was my own flesh and blood. Happy now?"

Ezra gave an annoyed huff. "Ecstatic."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Good to see that your charming personality remains intact despite your ordeal," he remarked, and even though his tone was just a little bit nasty and sarcastic I could see the genuine relief in his eyes that Ezra was acting more like himself. I couldn't be sure, but I had a feeling that Klaus had been just as worried about Ezra as I had been.

I pressed one last kiss to my brother's cheek then rose to my feet. "I'll be back tomorrow," I promised again, and it wasn't until Ezra nodded that I turned and left. I still felt utterly wretched in leaving him, but it was the best course of action.

A moment later, I was outside, and Klaus followed after me almost immediately, apparently not interested in speaking with his siblings any further. I slid into the shotgun seat of the car as Klaus got in the driver's side and turned the keys in the ignition. We pulled away from the plantation house, and I couldn't help the low whine that crept up out of my throat as the house got smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. It's wasn't like me to let my more wolfish mannerisms show like that, but leaving my brother behind was making me anxious and unhappy; besides, it wasn't like Klaus didn't already know I was a wolf; for that matter, even his brother and sister knew now. There was no point in hiding anymore.

The Original hybrid shot me an unreadable look, then sighed. "He's going to fine," he said after a moment of tense silence.

"Yeah," I said, but my voice sounded flat and unconvinced even to me.

"Your brother is strong," he continued on as if I hadn't spoken. "He'll pull through."

I just gave a shrug. "Yeah," I said again.

This time Klaus sent a glare in my direction. "Do you disagree?" he asked, his voice cutting.

I wrinkled my nose at him. "No," I replied. "I don't disagree. I just...you didn't see him the last time, Klaus. The last time I got him back from Sirena..." I shuddered. "The torture itself isn't as bad this time, I mean at least she didn't take his heart, but even so..."

Klaus frowned. "Why do I get the feeling that you mean more by 'take his heart' than simply betraying his trust?"

"Because I do mean more," I snapped. "She fucking carved his heart out, Klaus. What, did you think that scar on his chest was simply a fashion statement?!"

A long, long moment of silence, the quiet broken only by the intermittent static coming from the radio.

"Remind me to return the favor to her next time we cross paths," Klaus said at last, and his voice was so deathly sincere that I didn't doubt the truth of his intentions for even a moment.

The wolf in me liked the promise of bloodshed in his voice, and the human in me couldn't help but approve as well. Sirena was going to be in for a world of hurt if she showed up again, and I found myself looking forward to paying her back for the all the agony she'd caused my brother.

I relaxed into my seat, content in the knowledge that I'd rip Sirena's pretty face off the next time I saw her, then scowled as Klaus took a turn down a street that didn't lead back into the compound. " _Now_ where are we going?" I asked, exasperated with the Mikaelsons and their apparently inability to share travel plans.

"Sorry, love," he said lightly. "One last stop before we turn in for the night. Hope you don't mind."

I just shook my head, because his question had clearly been rhetorical; we were going to run one final errand whether I objected or not, so I just crossed my arms and waited to see what would happen next.

* * *

Ezra couldn't quite seem to prevent the tremors that were wracking his body. No matter how much effort he expended, he couldn't stop his muscles from quivering and trembling. He'd needed Elijah's help just to get up the stairs to his room, and wasn't that just spectacularly humiliating. Elijah, gentleman that he was, didn't comment on it one way or the other, simply leaving him to rest and reminding him that he and Rebekah were just a shout away if he needed anything. Ezra had thanked him, and then collapsed onto his bed, determined to suffer in silence and to not ask the Mikaelsons for anything. He was used to handling his pain alone; he didn't need anyone hovering over him.

Sure, it would have been nice if Zoe had stayed, and he missed her like someone had torn half his soul away and dropped it into the Atlantic, but he'd get by. Somehow. Maybe.

His body felt like it was trying to shake itself to pieces and that wasn't so fun, but he wasn't sure what to do about it. The strain on his body was coming mostly from the wolfsbane and silver poisoning combined with the sheer number of wounds all over his body. Some of the smaller less critical wounds had already begun healing, but plenty of the damage Sirena had done wouldn't start healing for at least several more hours, since the aconite would knock his accelerated healing down to almost nothing until the last of the poison worked its way out of his bloodstream.

He was curled up on his bed in a ball of pain when a series of soft knocks echoed on his door.  
  
Struggling to sit up, he winced when the movement aggravated his broken ribs. "Come in," he called out, putting a hand up to massage his throat after speaking since talking still hurt.

To his immense surprise, it was Rebekah who entered, her expression hesitant and unsure. "I came to see how you're doing," she said uncertainly, hovering in the doorway. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

 _Come closer and never leave_ , was what he wanted to say, because something about having Rebekah nearby made a little of the tension deep inside of his chest ease just a bit, as if her presence was some sort of soothing balm to the wounds on his battered soul. But he didn't dare say that, so he just shook his head. "No," he replied, "I'm fine."

The look of disbelief on her face made it clear she didn't believe him even the tiniest bit. "You're shaking," she told him. "And you look like you're about to hurl."

He rolled his eyes, because it was one of the few things he could do without pain. "I was just tortured by my psychotic ex-girlfriend. I think I'm allowed to look like shit for a day or two."

Rebekah gave a weak smile at his words, then surprised him again by crossing the room to come sit on the edge of his bed.

He froze for a moment, because her scent hit him hard right then, the delicate aroma that was Rebekah washing over him like an invisible wave. Vanilla, with a hint of warm cinnamon. He took a moment to savor it, and couldn't help but notice the absence of Marcel's scent mixed in with her own; had she not spent time with him today? He wondered if they were on the outs with each other again, then quickly crushed down that thought before it could grow. Wondering about things like that would lead only to more trouble. And he'd had more than his fill of trouble; enough of it to last ten lifetimes probably.

So he tried not to think about how close she was sitting to him or how comforting her scent was. He tried just focusing on her lips as she talked, but that was even worse, somehow. So he looked at her hair instead, in the hopes of knocking some sense into himself because Sirena had blonde hair too and obviously that was a trait he should hate since the person he despised the most possessed it. But even as he thought that, he couldn't help but notice that Rebekah's hair was different from Sirena's. Rebekah's had more true gold in it, and yet was somehow softer looking than Sirena's at the same time. And Rebekah's had a gentle wave to it, whereas Sirena's was straight and needed a heavy-duty curling iron and bottle upon bottle of hair spray to achieve even a bit of curl. Rebekah seemed softer compared to Sirena just in general, but Ezra knew that such thoughts were completely ridiculous; he'd witnessed firsthand that Rebekah was capable of just as much cruelty as any other vampire; perhaps even more given her familial influences.

"Shall I run a bath for you?" she asked him suddenly.

He gave a jolt of surprise so severe that it shook the bed. "Wh-what?"

"Shall I run a bath for you?" she repeated patiently. "I know that when I'm feeling completely miserable it seems to help. Besides," she added, "the heat might do your muscles good; relax some of that tension." She reached out to wrap her fingers around his arm as if to point out the fact that he was taut as a bowstring and trembling like a newborn kitten.

He sucked his breath in sharply at the feel of her hand on his arm and swallowed hard. "Okay," he said, because she could have suggested anything right then and he would have agreed without a second thought. He expected his wolf to protest over his easy acquiescence, but to his further shock his wolf just gave a low rumble of contentment, as if Rebekah's attempts to nurse him back into a semblance of normality were completely unsurprising and even welcome.

Ezra felt like someone had transported him in an alternate dimension of some kind as Rebekah smiled and went into his bathroom suite to start filling the tub with hot water. Abruptly exhausted now that she'd left his side, he fell back against his pillows with a weary sigh.

He drifted back asleep to the sound of running water and Rebekah humming as she poured some bubble-bath soap into the tub.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we finish up with the remainder of episode nine, Reigning Pain in New Orleans, where I...pretty much toss a chunk of canon right out the window. Well, sort of. It's more like a hijacking, really. You'll see what I mean. XD

" **We met less than a week ago and in that time I've done nothing but lie and cheat and betray you. I know. But if you give me a chance...all I want is to protect you. To be near you. For as long as I'm able."**

* * *

When Klaus pulled up to St. Ann's Church, I frowned at him in confusion. "What are we doing here?" I asked him curiously, stepping out of the car and glancing up at the building with a mixture of awe and sadness. This place had a weight to it, a depth. There was joy in this building, but I could smell blood and death and pain as well, and there was something about it that made me twitchy.

"Just come along," Klaus said, leading the way up the steps. "And be quick about it."

I scowled after him and flipped him off in annoyance, but followed anyway.

Imagine my surprise as I watched what happened next.

"I have a favor to ask," Klaus said to the priest at the altar.

The priest, Kieran I think his name was, didn't look away from the candles he was lighting. "I am saying prayers for the dead," he said tightly. "I request a moratorium on favors from the king."

The bitterness in his voice on the word 'king' gave me the distinct impression that he and Klaus were not quite on the best of terms, and I glanced over at the Original questioningly.

Klaus just shrugged before turning back to Kieran. "You'll like this favor," he told the priest. "It involves helping people who need protection."

"And whom, may I ask, do they need protection from?" Kieran asked.

"Me," Klaus replied immediately, and I rolled my eyes because, yeah, that was typical. "You see," he continued, "I recently ordered the slaughter of a group of vagabonds out in the bayou. Turns out, I may have been too hasty. Thing is, if the vampires find out I'm protecting them, it won't sit well."

Kieran sighed. "I think I can arrange something. On one condition," he added.

"Name it," Klaus said immediately.

Kieran hesitated before answering. "For her own good," he said at last, "I believe it is time for my niece to leave town."

"Your niece?" I repeated in confusion, and then I realized who he met.

Cami. The bartender Klaus was so fond of. The one whose brother had been killed by the New Orleans coven. The one who was getting drawn into a web of danger she was only just now beginning to understand.

The one who, if I was right, Klaus was going to compel to forget everything and leave town.  
Before I could say anything to argue with either Kieran or Klaus, the Original hybrid was gone, disappearing with his vampire speed. "Shit!" I exclaimed, and sprinted for the doors. If I shifted and ran fast enough, there was a chance I could track down Cami before Klaus. A slim chance, but I'd take it.

"You shouldn't interfere," Kieran called after me. "It's for her own good!"

I ignored him, shucking off as many clothes as I could as I ran down the stairs and into the street so that there was no chance I'd get tangled up in them in case I was unlucky and got one of those rare shifts where my clothes didn't vanish; it almost never happened anymore, but knowing my luck it would be tonight, when I was in a hurry.

I ran right past the car we'd come here in and shifted as I went, transitioning from two legs to four paws faster than I ever had before, my attention focused completely on finding Cami's scent and tracking it. She'd come to here to the church fairly recently; I had gotten a whiff of her scent inside, sweet lemonade and spring grass, and I put my snout to the ground and tracked it down the street as fast as my legs could carry me.

I expected to end up at her apartment, but to my surprise I discovered a fresher scent trail leading to small little convenience store a few blocks away from her building. I padded up to the glass window and peered inside, and, to my immense relief, saw her checking out at the counter, handing over a few crumpled bills in exchange for a small tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I shifted back just in time to grab her as she came outside. "Camille!"

"Zoe? What are you doing here? And why aren't you wearing any clothes?!"

I cursed at my rotten luck. My tank top and jeans hadn't come back from the shift, leaving me in just my bra and underwear. "Because I have terrible luck," I griped, then remembered that there was something I had to do quickly, before Klaus got to Cami's apartment and realized that she wasn't there yet. He wasn't an idiot, far from it, so eventually he'd track her down. I knew he felt guilty about compelling her all this time and didn't want to do it anymore...but I also knew that he did unreasonable things to try and protect the people he cared about. And it was obvious to anyone who looked closely enough that he did care about Camille. And as clever as Klaus was, he had to have realized by now that as the lone mortal in this war between witches, vampires, and wolves Cami was the most vulnerable by far.

That being said, I wasn't just going to let him compel her and send her away. Even ignoring the fact that he was a better version of himself around her, taking away someone's free will like that was absolutely unconscionable. That sort of brainwashing was one of the few things that crossed a hard line for me.

And because I couldn't allow it to happen, I was going to cross a line of my own.

I reached out and touched my fingertips to Camille's forehead. "I need to do something to you," I told her, "and it's going to be uncomfortable at first, but it won't hurt, okay? I promise."

Cami gave me a look like I was out of my mind, but then realization slowly dawned. "You know what's happening to me," she said. "Why I feel like I'm losing my mind!"

"You're not losing your mind," I told her. "Your mind's just been muddled up a bit. I'm going to take care of it, okay?" I focused on my magic, bringing it up from where I had it hidden deep inside me. "Just take a deep breath, okay?"

She nodded, closing her eyes. "Okay."

It took several minutes, but with a little bit of work, I managed to erase Klaus's prior compulsions on Cami, including the ones to make her forget their little therapy sessions and everything else she'd learned. Basically I reset her back to how she should have without the compulsion. Who was really was, deep down underneath the layers of vampiric hypnotism. I also added another spell, a protection charm, that would prevent Cami from getting compelled again; the charm was similar to the ones Ezra and I used on ourselves to prevent compulsion. Ours were longterm, only needing to be re-cast every decade or so; I couldn't do such a powerful spell on Camille, not with me being so out of practice and with Davina still on the lookout for any strong active magic. So I kept the protection charm low-key and contented myself with the knowledge that even a diluted version should keep Cami safe from compulsion for at least a few more months.

I was sweating buckets but fiercely satisfied by the time I was finished, so happy about my accomplishment that I wasn't even worried when Klaus finally showed up. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me half-naked with Camille, and then his expression turned thunderous when he took in the implications of my being there.

"What have you done?" he demanded.

I opened by mouth to answer, but Cami beat me to it.

"She's protecting me from any more of your memory mojo!" she snapped, striding forward to poke him in the chest. "I'm still mad at you for that, by the way. Furious, in fact. What the hell gives you the right to play games with my memories like that, huh?" She jabbed at him again. "Why do you keep trying to get rid of me, Klaus? You have kept me here for weeks just so someone, anyone, would see who you really are, and now that I have, it scares the hell out of you, doesn't it?"

"If you knew even a fraction of who I am, it would break you in two!" he snarled.

"Then show me," she challenged.

But Klaus shook his head and turned to go.

"Fine," Camille said. "Don't show me now. But don't run away again either!" Her tone turned plaintive. "I know that this isn't easy for your Klaus, God knows it isn't easy for me. But just... _erasing_ the memories of everything that's happened doesn't erase the pain. I _know_ you know that. Just because I didn't remember those things didn't mean they didn't happen. My brother died in an awful way, and whether I remember how he really died or not, it's still there, tearing me apart." Tears slid down her cheeks. "Memories are important, Klaus. And not just the good ones. The bad ones are important, too, because as terrible as they are they still shape who we become." She wiped at her cheeks. "If you take away pieces of my mind...I won't know who I am anymore."

And then suddenly Klaus was there, brushing his fingertips lightly across her jaw. "You're incredible," he told her. "And beautiful, and brilliant. Even if someone were to take away all your memories, that would never change. Because that's just who you are. Camille." He gave a weak smile. "My brave bartender."

"I'm still angry at you," she informed him curtly, crossing her arms.

"I'd be worried if you weren't," Klaus remarked, smiling crookedly.

She gave an annoyed sigh. "Stop it," she told him. "With that crooked smile thing. Seriously."

His smile only widened, but he didn't respond.

Camille rolled her eyes. "Okay, well, if we're done here, I'm doing to go home and drown my sorrows in Haagen-Dasz. Goodnight, Klaus." She turned back to me. "Good night, Zoe. And thank you," she added.

I smiled. "You're very welcome," I replied, feeling pretty pleased with myself.

"Stow that smile," Klaus scolded me as Camille rounded the corner and vanished from view. "For the record, I was considering undoing the compulsion myself anyway. You didn't need to interfere."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

He gave an exasperated sigh, then shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to me. "Put this on before some street-corner pimp tries to jump us and kidnap you."

The mental picture his words conjured was so amusing I snickered. "I somehow doubt you'd let him take me very far."

Klaus gave me a sly look. "On the contrary, I might let him cross the border with you. Might save me the trouble of punting you across it myself."

I shrugged into his jacket and elbowed him in the stomach. "Oh, shut up. You love me, admit it."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, like an ulcer I've nurtured my entire life," he said sarcastically. "Just don't know what I'd do if you weren't around to cause me trouble."

I huffed at him but couldn't think of a good enough comeback to bother replying.

We'd walked nearly all the way back to the compound before he spoke again.

"Thank you," he said, his voice such a low murmur that even with my werewolf hearing I almost missed it. "For Camille."

I reached out on impulse and squeezed his hand gently. "You're welcome," I told him.

And then we were...well, home. We entered the compound to find it largely quiet and deserted. With the notable exception of Elijah, who was waiting by the stairs in the inner courtyard.

"Is Ezra okay?" I asked immediately, because I'd thought Elijah would stay back at the plantation house with his sister and my brother. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Elijah said soothingly. "He's perfectly fine. I left him with Rebekah; she promised to keep a close watch on him. That isn't why I came."

"Which leaves only one other reason," Klaus said, tone turning nasty. "Here to visit with the pretty little wolf?"

My stomach churned at the thought of Elijah and Hayley alone together; my wolf, likewise, didn't like the idea of the two of them together, growling deep within my mind. But I bit my tongue and headed for the stairs instead, not wanting to get dragged into this conversation. It had been a ridiculously long day, and I was tired. "I'm going to go to bed," I told them, taking off Klaus's jacket and handing it back as I passed him, trying to not think about the fact that I was prancing up the stairs in just my underwear with Elijah standing not ten feet away.

I hustled myself quickly to my room and wasted no time in burrowing under the covers of my bed and burying my head under my pillow.

* * *

Elijah watched Zoe go upstairs, unable to look away from her slim athletic form even though he knew it was beyond rude to stare after her the way he was, especially since she was dressed only in a brassiere and boyshort panties. But something about her graceful prowl and the sleek lines of her body kept his eyes glued to her all the way up the stairs and down the hall until she reached the door of what he presumed was her room. She quickly darted inside and shut the door behind her, and he didn't need to have vampire hearing to tell that she'd shut it a little harder than necessary. He wondered what was upsetting her; did it have anything to do with why she was waltzing in here with her clothes missing?

He shook his head, putting it from his mind for now. He focused instead on answering his brother's question. "Yes," he replied. "I did stop by to see Hayley. She doesn't have much support at the moment, so I wanted to make sure she was alright."

Klaus shook his head, looking aggravated. "Haven't you had your fill of telling me all the ways I've disappointed you, Elijah?" he asked, and there was something in his tone of voice that made Elijah look at him more closely.

"Well," Elijah said after a moment of consideration, "there is something important we neglected to discuss."

Klaus narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "And that would be?"

"I accused you of having ulterior motives regarding the child." Elijah hesitated. "I was wrong," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

Klaus stared at him for long moment in silence, his expression guarded but the surprise reflected in his eyes, as if he'd never imagined hearing an apology from his brother. "I imagine that must have been hard for you to say," he said at last.

Elijah sighed, and gave him a small wry smile. "You don't make it easy to love you, brother."

"And yet you're obstinate in your desire to do so," Klaus remarked, and though Elijah could hear the scorn in his tone, there was something else there too...gratitude? Affection? "When you're ready," Klaus went on, "should you be so inclined...both you and Rebekah are welcome to join me and the Storme twins here. It is, after all, our family home."

Elijah was struck speechless, unable to say a single word as Klaus gave him a nod goodnight and disappeared upstairs. That offer from his half-brother was the closest he'd ever seen Klaus come to an 'apology accepted'. He couldn't help but wonder if his brother's redemption might not be such a distant dream after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo. Okay, we finished episode nine. Good grief, that was tricky. Anyway, as I'm sure you noticed, I changed a pretty critical part of the plot here. Namely, Zoe is the one to remove the compulsion from Cami (as well as put in place a charm to prevent future compulsion), rather than Davina. This is because I 1) have other plans for Davina involving abductions and the Shadow Coven and 2) needed Zoe to use her magic again, just to show that she's more open to utilizing it than before. Also to show that she is a very powerful witch when she chooses to use her magic; Davina, while strong in terms of sheer power, is relatively inexperienced; it took her several long excruciating hours to remove Cami's compulsion in the original canon, and Zoe manages to do it here in just a few minutes, simply because she has more technical experience compared to Davina (understandable, since Zoe's got decades more practice at being a witch, even if she's sworn off magic).
> 
> Anyhow, let me know what you guys think of this chapter. It marks our first big divergence from the show's canon plotline, so your feedback on that would be very greatly appreciated. Also, there was a Zolijah moment in there, did you guys catch it? (It's pretty much Zoe literally streaking semi-naked through a room, so I'm hoping you didn't miss it. XD). In any case, drop me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter. Good, bad? Is everyone still believable? Did you like Zoe butting in and helping Cami, or not? Did you like the way Klaus reacted? Did you like the standard Klaus & Zoe banter? Did you like the Zolijah moment? Did I do that scene between Elijah and Klaus okay? Let me know what you think! I adore all feedback. :)


	46. Chapter 46

**"Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear of punishment."**

* * *

I woke up to the sound of rapid knocking on my bedroom door. I groaned unhappily because a glance at the bedside clock informed me that it was just after six in the morning; it had barely been five hours since I'd first _gone_ to sleep, for crying out loud.

But the knocking continued on insistently, and I rolled out of bed and padded to the door. "Alright, alright," I grumbled in annoyance. "Keep your shirt on."

The scent of apples and blood pricked at my nose just before I opened the door, and sure enough, there was Marcel on the other side.

"What do you want?" I asked him sourly.

"Have you seen Davina?" he demanded without preamble.

"What?" I rubbed a hand across my face tiredly. "No, asshole, I haven't seen anyone, I've been asleep." I noticed the sharp tang of fear winding its way through his natural scent. "Why, what's wrong?"

"I can't find her anywhere," Marcel replied. "I went to check in on her, but she's not in her room, or anywhere else in the compound. And no one saw her leave." His phone went off, and he pulled it out as he turned and started walking away. "Sorry for waking you," he called over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

I stared after him, both irritated and dumbfounded.

Davina was missing?

Recalling the danger the girl was in from her former coven, I hurried back into my room and snatched up my own phone. I typed off a quick text to Klaus. _You still here at the compound?_ I asked him.

 _No_ , came his reply a moment later. _Catching up with Cami._

Well, that was...sweet. And I hated to be the bearer of bad news and ruin what was probably an adorably awkward yet happy moment between the two of them, but there were more pressing concerns at hand. _Davina's missing_ , I typed, then hit Send.

My phone ran barely half a second later.

"What do you mean, she's missing?" Klaus snapped as I picked up.

"I mean," I told him, "Marcel's freaking out because she's gone without a trace. I take it you have no idea where she is either?"

"No," Klaus replied. "Last I spoke with her, I was under the impression that Davina was content to remain safe within the compound."

"Well, she is a teenager," I pointed out. "She probably snuck out to meet up with a boy or something."

"I don't want to think she'd be so foolish; there is a fanatic coven desperate to end her life, after all."

"Fair point," I conceded. "So what do you want to do?"

"I'll call Elijah, see if he can join us in searching for her."

"Us?" I repeated with a frown. "As in, including me? Because I thought you wanted me sitting on Hayley for the time-being."

An aggravated sigh. "I do, but Davina's absence is more urgent. We can't allow someone with her power to fall into the wrong hands."

"Okay," I said in agreement. "Just let me put up a protection spell around Hayley's room and then I'll be on my way."

A long pause, then "Thank you, Zoe."

"For what?" I asked lightly, even though I knew; even if Klaus wasn't in love with Hayley, he'd had strong feelings for her once, and she was still the mother of his unborn child. Keeping her safe was important to him no matter how much he pretended otherwise. His gratitude for my protecting her was sincere, but I didn't want to make him uncomfortable by drawing attention to it, so I just ended the conversation with "See you soon" and hung up.

It took me longer than I'd anticipated to set up a protection charm outside Hayley's room, probably because I was still dead tired from the shenanigans of the previous day. _Good grief_ , I thought as I descended the stairs and got into my rental car. _Was it really only yesterday?_ Shaking my head in disbelief, I pulled out into the street and headed for the plantation to check in with Ezra before joining Klaus in his search.

* * *

To say that Ezra was unhappy when Marcel showed up at the plantation house was an understatement of massive proportions. He'd rather have been dunked in cow manure than have Marcel anywhere near him when he was still recovering, but since it wasn't his house he couldn't kick the asshole to the curb. Instead, he had to focus on keeping his wolf tightly leashed as Marcel came and joined him and Rebekah in the living room, sitting much closer to Rebekah than Ezra and his wolf would have liked. Seriously, he would have much preferred a larger gap between them. Like maybe a football field at least. Possibly a couple parishes.

"Bekah-" Marcel began, reaching out to cup her cheek, acting for all the world as if Ezra wasn't sitting right there watching every move he made.

To Ezra's surprise, Rebekah batted his hand away, looking annoyed. "Don't," she snapped at him. "You made your choice. You and Klaus are best friends again."

Looking pained, Marcel tried to touch her again. "Rebekah-"

"Stop it!" she said angrily. "You've relinquished the right to touch me."

Ezra's wolf gave a low rumble of satisfaction at the obvious fury in her tone and it was all Ezra could do to bite his lip and keep the pleased growl silent in his throat; it was obvious that Marcel wouldn't so easily forgiven for this latest betrayal of Rebekah's trust.

Marcel opened his mouth as if to say something to try and convince her, but his phone went off suddenly, chiming out a text alert.

"Wonder who that is?" Rebekah said bitterly.

Marcel gave her an exasperated look before checking the message. "Yeah, it's Klaus," he admitted, frowning at his phone a bit before standing up. "Just so you know," he added as he headed for the front door, "Davina is missing and he's helping me to try and find her. If you can spare a moment from your self-righteous indignation, maybe you could give us a hand and ask around." And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as stormed out.

Elijah entered the room a moment later, shrugging into a new suit jacket as he headed for the door.

"And where are _you_ going?" Rebekah demanded.

"What he said about Davina is true," he told her. "Niklaus just called me. He's looking for her right now, and Zoe is on her way over to pick me up so I can join the search."

Ezra moved to stand. "I'll come, too."

"What? No!" Rebekah grabbed his arm in a tight grip and forced him back down. "Ezra Storme, don't you dare! You're still recovering!"

He shook his head. "I can't just sit here and do nothing," he argued. "Besides, I got some rest and most of the wounds are healing. I'm fine."

"You are not fine!" she snapped. "You still look like roadkill!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said dryly. "Really, it does wonders for my ego."

She huffed at him in annoyance. "I just don't want you to push yourself," she said, worry underlying her tone of aggravation. "You and your sister both have this ridiculous habit of running yourselves ragged without even noticing it; I just don't want you hurting yourself further when you should be healing."

"Amen to that," his twin's voice said from the front door. Evidently Zoe had arrived sometime during his debate with Rebekah; she was watching them now with an amused expression as she twirled her car keys absentmindedly in one hand. "Seriously, Ez, it's fine. Between me, Klaus, Elijah, and Marcel we should have more than enough manpower to track down Davina. And if it turns out to be anything more than her just running off," she added when she saw him about to argue, "we'll call you. Okay? I promise. Until then, just stay here with Rebekah and get your strength back."

He didn't like it, but in the end he agreed. "Alright, fine. But make sure you call if something happens!"

"Scout's honor," she assured him, raising her hand in a what might have been a salute.

But he knew better. "You're not a scout," he said, rolling his eyes.

She gave him a crooked smile. "Doesn't change the intent," she remarked.

Ezra sighed, then pinned Elijah in a fierce glower. "You keep an eye on my sister for me," he said sternly. "Don't let her do anything reckless."

The eldest Mikaelson nodded. "I'll look after her," he promised. "She won't come to any harm while she's with me."

"She'd better not."

Zoe rolled her eyes at his overprotective brother attitude, then turned to Elijah. "You ready to go?"

He nodded. "Yes. We should hurry," he added. "There's no telling what sort of trouble Davina might have gotten herself into."

"Yeah," Zoe agreed, and then she and Elijah were gone, back out the door and into the night.

* * *

Elijah and I met up with Klaus and Marcel back at the Abattoir after scouring the Quarter and turning up a whole lot of nothing. We had looked in every bar and store, and Camille had even reached out to some of her acquaintances to ask if they'd seen Davina anywhere around town.

And still nothing. There was no sign of her anywhere.

"Her violin is missing," Elijah noticed after inspecting her room. "She probably did leave of her own volition."

"What did you say to her in the attic?" Marcel asked suspiciously, referring to the time Elijah had been held prisoner as leverage against Klaus. "She lied to my face so she could stay up there, thinking that you'd help her control her magic." He strode forward to get in Elijah's face. "How do we know _you_ didn't take her?"

"I have no idea where Davina is," Elijah said, "or why she ran away. Can I suggest you take a step back?" he added, his tone turning slightly dangerous. Obviously he didn't like Marcel's little personal space invasion, and I had to admit that I didn't like the attitude Marcel was giving him, either; my wolf instincts wanted me to go over there and take a chunk out of Marcel for daring to accuse Elijah of taking Davina. Elijah could be ruthless when he needed to be, but if he'd promised to help Davina then that's what he was going to do, regardless of whatever anyone else thought about it. He wouldn't have taken her away from the protection of the compound, not with so many crazy witches out to get her.

And sure enough, the next words out of Elijah's mouth were "I can assure you I have absolutely no desire to see that child come into harm's way. She's suffered enough with this Harvest ritual nonsense," proving that even if my infatuation with him was stupid and unreasonable, at least I was still a relatively good judge of character.

Marcel eyed him mistrustfully, but finally stepped back. "Fine. I'll reserve judgment...for now."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "You have my gratitude," he said sarcastically before turning back to me. "Is there any way for you to do some sort of locator spell, to pinpoint her current location?"

I considered it briefly. Very, very briefly. "No," I said, trying to stifle my annoyance at him blowing half of my cover with Marcel standing right there.

Marcel glared at me, apparently ignoring the fact I was a witch to focus on the fact that I was a witch refusing to be useful. "Can't, or won't?"

His tone of voice rubbed me entirely the wrong way, so I gave him a cheeky little smile. "Little bit of both," I said sweetly.

He took a step towards me threateningly, but I quickly raised my hands to ward him off. "Relax, jerk," I snapped. "I'm not being deliberately troublesome. It's the truth. Locator spells have never been something I'm very good at, and I can say with great certainty that the cost of me casting that spell wouldn't be worth the nonexistent results. So, there you go. It's a bit of both."

Marcel still glared at me like he wanted to throttle me, but he let the subject drop. "So what do we do?" he asked, his voice turning just a little more desperate as he turned back to the Original brothers. "Klaus, that girl is my responsibility. If anything happens to her..."

"We'll find her," Klaus said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't worry."

I couldn't help the little niggle of anxiety in my gut, though. Sure, it was three immortals and one powerful vampire against whoever had taken Davina, if she'd even _been_ taken. But an intense feeling of foreboding was beginning to creep over me, and I wasn't sure why.

All I knew was that something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Ezra got out of the shower to find Rebekah waiting in his room, perched on the edge of his bed with a breakfast tray in her lap.

"Good God," he said in shock, so startled by her being there that he froze in place, acutely aware of the fact that he was, much like the first time they'd met, dripping wet and not fully clothed; this time he had only a white terrycloth towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else, and all of a sudden it was like there wasn't enough air in the room or something. "Don't you people ever knock?" he complained at last, trying to cover his surprise.

She gave him an amused little grin. "I did knock," she informed him smugly. "You just didn't hear it." She wagged a finger at him. "So much for those werewolf eavesdropping skills."

He rolled his eyes, the teasing relaxing enough for him to go over and sit on one of the padded chairs by the desk; the idea of sitting on the bed next to Rebekah was _very_ tempting but with they way her presence affected him it was probably best to keep some distance between them. "What's up with the eats?" he asked, nodding to the tray in her lap.

"Oh!" She gave an odd little blush that made her cheekbones look lovely "I thought you might be hungry, since you didn't eat anything last night. I just sort of threw some things together for you, really," she added. "No big deal."

Glancing down at the plate and seeing a massive omelet, three pieces of sausage, five pieces of bacon and four pieces of toast, he felt inclined to disagree. This wasn't something she'd just 'thrown together', not at all. She'd prepared this meal for him herself, and clearly she'd taken the time to do it right because that omelet looked absolutely perfect and God knew he'd never managed to prepare and flip an omelet the right way in his entire life. "Thank you," he told sincerely, touched by the kind gesture. "That's really...it looks really good."

She gave him a shy smile. "Well, live as I long as I have, you pick up a few handy skills along the way." She set the tray down and stood up. "You go ahead and eat, I'll be back to check on you in a minute."

He raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering where she was going.

"I think I might have left the stove on," she said in explanation, a faint blush of embarrassment tinging her cheeks pink again. "If I don't turn it off and the house burns down, I'll never hear the end of it from my brothers."

He couldn't help the chuckle of genuine mirth that bubble up out of his chest, and the answering smile on Rebekah's face only made him laugh harder.

* * *

I was just about to go out into the Quarter to search for Davina on foot again, when suddenly my phone went off, showing a local area code with a number I didn't recognize. Wondering just how in the hell everyone in the world was getting my number when I'd only given it to a handful of people, I answered the call.

"Storme," I said shortly, not in the mood to be polite.

"Why hello, little wolf. You're sounding well."

My stomach dropped like a stone. "Evans," I growled, flailing my free hand to get the vampires' attention.

Marcel gave me an annoyed look, but Elijah and Klaus came over immediately.

"Who is it?" Elijah asked.

"The asshole who kidnapped me," I muttered, covering the speaker with my hand

"The one who teamed up with Tyler in the bayou?" Klaus questioned, tone deadly.

"Yeah." I uncovered the phone and spoke to Evans. "How did you get this number?"

"That hardly matters," Evans said cheerily. "What matters," he went on, "is what you're going to give me in exchange for this pretty little witch I have in the back of my van right now."

My entire body went cold. "You're bluffing," I said automatically.

Evans gave a nasty chuckle. "I thought you might say that," he remarked. "So, here: ask her yourself."

A rustling sound, and then Davina's voice came across the line, weak and shaky. "Hello?"

"Davina?" Marcel zoomed over snatched my phone from my hand. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I don't know," she cried. "I just went out to see Tim, I swear, and then this guy grabbed me and knocked me out. I just wanted some fresh air, Marcel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to-"

Her voice cut off suddenly, replaced by Patrick's oily baritone. "As you can see," he told us, "I'm not bluffing. I have your little witch friend, and if you don't meet my demands I'm going to hand her over to that bloodthirsty coven you've been keeping her from all this time. Or maybe I'll deliver her to your uncle, little wolf," he said, directing his words to me. "I'm sure he'll find a way to put such a talented witch to good use."

"If you so much as touch a hair on her head I'll kill you," Marcel snarled. "Let her go."

"I'm not speaking to you, leech," Evans snapped. "Put Storme back on."

Marcel opened his mouth to argue but Klaus quickly intervened, grabbing my phone back and tossing it to me. I took a shaky breath before putting it up to my ear and speaking. "What do you want," I asked flatly.

"What I've always wanted," he replied evenly. "You and your brother in chains."

"My brother's unavailable at the moment," I said. "But if you turn Davina loose...I'll turn myself in."

Klaus spun away from Marcel to look at me in disbelief, anger and alarm warring for dominance on his face. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

I ignored him. "It's a fair trade," I said to Evans. "Me for her. I'm the one you really want anyway."

I could practically hear his slimy smile through the phone. "I knew you'd come around to my way of seeing things, Storme. Fine. We have a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry about the update delay. ^_^; I'll be posting the next couple chapters right away, so we can catch up to the posting schedule on ffnet. ;D
> 
> Also, if anyone's interested in listening to the playlist of songs I listen to when I'm writing Inevitable and stuff, I've made my (un-creatively named) Inevitable Playlist public on youtube! My username is YuzukiMist, pretty much just like my tumblr username, so you can literally just enter it into the search bar and you'll find your way to my youtube channel. Which pretty much has no other public playlists on it right now, so finding the one for Inevitable shouldn't be too hard. ;) The playlist itself is a mix of songs from TO and TVD, along with other music that fits my mood when I'm writing or matches up with certain parts of the story. Feel free to check it (or not) if you guys are curious as to what I listen to when I'm in the throes of creative passion. XD


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about the story: this chapter gives me a chance to show 1) Ezra flipping his shit because Zoe's going to hand herself over to Patrick Evans and 2) Elijah flipping his shit because Zoe's going to hand herself over to Patrick Evans. Ezra's reaction is, of course, not surprising because he's her twin brother and we've all seen how absolutely batshit either of them go when the other is in danger. Elijah, though...this is when we get to begin to see how much Zoe is really starting to affect him with her presence. We haven't seen anything big like this from his perspective in...oh, I dunno, forty chapters or something? Bad of me, I know, especially since my endgame here is Elijah/Zoe. But this chapter gives us a look in where he's at now that Zoe's off doing idiot reckless things like handing herself over to a sadistic asshole. Hope you like it. XD

" **Sometimes beautiful things come into our lives out of nowhere. We can't always understand them, but we have to trust in them. I know you want to question everything, but sometimes it pays to just have a little faith. "**

* * *

Ezra was just pulling on a sweater when his phone went off. Shrugging into the garment the rest of the way, he padded over to the desk to grab his phone, relieved that the injuries on his feet had finished healing so that he could walk without wincing. "Hello?"

"You need to hurry up and stop your sister from doing something epically idiotic," Klaus said, his voice sharp with urgency.

"What?" his heart pounded in his chest. "Why, what's going on?"

"Patrick Evans has Davina-"

Ezra cursed.

"-and your sister is going to trade herself to him on the condition that he let's Davina go."

Ezra hurled his phone across the room so hard that it should have smashed into pieces from the impact. As it was, it just bounced off the edge of a chair and tumbled to the ground, scuffed but unbroken.

"Ezra," came Klaus's voice through the speaker. "Are you still there?"

 _No_ , he wanted to say. _No, I'm not here, I'm clearly in hell. Can't you smell the brimstone?_

He struggled to keep himself from letting out a massive roar of fury and frustration, and instead concentrated on walking over to pick up his phone. "Where is she now?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice controlled. "Is she still with you?" If she hadn't gone to meet the revenant yet, then there was still a chance avert this trainwreck before it happened.

But Klaus offered nothing helpful on that front. "No. Elijah and I tried to stop her, but she blasted us back with some bloody spell and took off. Marcel, of course, only cares about getting Davina back, so he's absolutely no use at all."

"Is Elijah there?" Ezra demanded. "Put him on."

A moment of silence as the phone changed hands, and then Elijah was there. "Yes?"

" _You fucking asshole, what happened to looking after her and not letting any harm come to her?!_ " he snarled. "I trusted you with my sister's well-being and _this_ is the fucking result? How the hell is letting her run off to that revenant in _any_ way a good idea?!"

"As I'm sure Niklaus has told you," Elijah replied, his voice tight, "your sister used her magic on us, to knock us back and prevent us from pursuing her. By the time we had recovered, she was gone."

"She's driving a outdated Prius for God's sake, how far could she have gotten? Did you assholes even _try_ to chase after her?!"

"Ezra-"

"You better hope to God he doesn't hurt her, because if he does I am taking it out on _you_ ," Ezra threatened. "And trust me, it won't be pretty."

A crackling sound as Klaus snatched the phone back from his brother. "Look, Ezra, I understand your fury, but we need to approach this rationally."

"The hell we do!" he shouted, and then he heard quick footsteps pattering up the stairs; it seemed like Rebekah had heard all his yelling and was coming to investigate.

Sure enough, she appeared in his doorway a heartbeat later, eyes wide. "What's going on?" she asked.

Ezra let out a groan and tossed her his phone. "Ask you brother," was all he said, then went over to pull on his boots. His daggers were still sitting in a dumpster out by the Waffle House, so he'd be going unarmed, but that wasn't going to stop him.

He was going to find his sister, even if he had to rip apart this city to do it.

* * *

I knew the fallout from my decision would be immense. Even ignoring the fact that I was driving towards my own doom, my brother and our friends were not going to be at all happy with my decision.

As expected, the second I'd made up my mind to hand myself over in exchange for Davina, Klaus and Elijah had objected. Klaus's argument I had expected; after all, he needed me to watch over Hayley. But Elijah's opposition, especially as strong as it had been, had been a total shock to me. He'd been insistent that I not go, that we could find some other way.

In the end I'd had to rely on a spell to blast them away long enough to make my escape. And even as I drove, they kept trying to call me, so often that I had to access my phone's settings and temporarily block their numbers. And then my brother called, and I had to shut my phone off altogether, because he was probably the one person who could convince me not to do this. And I _had_ to do this.

It was my fault Davina had been taken. If Evans hadn't been so desperate to catch me and my brother again, he wouldn't have resorted to kidnapping an innocent girl we happened to be acquainted with.  
  
So it was up to me to fix it.

Win, lose, or draw, the results of this round would be all on me.

* * *

Elijah could barely contain the strange panic that was clawing at his chest. He was managing to keep his outward appearance calm and collected, somehow, but on the inside it was like someone had taken a jigsaw puzzle and tossed all the pieces into the air. Nothing was fitting right, and no matter how he tried he couldn't make the pieces come back together.

The fear wrapping itself around his heart was even worse than all the times Hayley had nearly been killed by the witches. Even worse than the suffocating feeling he'd had in his chest when his brother had daggered him and handed him over to Marcel as a twisted sort of peace offering. Even worse than the bone-deep terror he'd had running through his veins when Klaus had unwittingly caused the bloodthirsty mortals to hunt down his beloved Celeste all those years ago.

This terror was painfully new. And he had no idea what to think of it.

He was fond of Zoe, certainly. She intrigued him, in the way a sleek jungle cat at rest was fascinating; her contrary mood swings, the way she could be spitting verbal bullets one minute and then offering comfort the next...everything he saw of her only made him more curious, more determined to understand her. She was prickly, and difficult to get along with, but even so she'd somehow managed to befriend both Rebekah and Klaus, and Elijah knew that such a feat was difficult to manage, especially where his wayward half-brother was concerned; Klaus let no one in, not even his family lately. But something about the Storme twins was...magnetic. For all their attitude issues and drama, they fit in with Elijah and his siblings somehow. Hell, maybe it was _because_ of their attitude issues and drama that they fit so well. Whatever the reason, Elijah knew that the thought of Zoe being gone forever was one he couldn't bear. Even just picturing it in his mind made his lungs seize up and his heart pound painfully in his chest.

 _I have to find her._ The need to do so was like a burning fire in his blood, the thrum of it urging him to move, to run, to dash through the city until he could find her and bring her home again.

He didn't understand what it was that he was feeling, but he knew he couldn't ignore it.

* * *

I turned my phone back on once I was sure everyone had stopped trying to call me. I had a maxed out voicemail inbox, of course, but I ignored it. Instead I scrolled through my recent contacts until I hit the number I wanted.

It rang twice before Evans answered. "Where are you?" he asked.

"Out in the middle of freaking nowhere," I griped, "as per your orders." I stepped out of the car and looked around. I really _was_ out in the middle of nowhere; the only distinguishing feature of the landscape was the fact that I was surrounded by a massive grove of weeping willows, and even so that gave me no frame of reference whatsoever. Even though I'd been in New Orleans all this time, I hadn't bothered to go touring around the countryside, and I'd relied on the car's GPS to get me out here. Besides, it wasn't like those kinds of trees were uncommon in the area; I really could have been just about anywhere.

"Good," Evans said, seeming pleased by my frustration. "Now leave your keys on the hood of the car, along with your phone. And then walk eighty paces into the grove and wait."

"Eighty paces in which direction?" I asked nastily, setting my keys down as requested.

"Dead ahead," was his answer, and then he hung up.

Scowling at my phone and finally second-guessing my wisdom in doing this, I considered...well, reconsidering. But I'd come this far already...I figured I might as well follow through. Davina, after all, was a helpless victim in this; I was the real target. So I set my phone down on the hood of the car beside my keys, and then started walking. I counted off my paces in Latin, mostly just to amuse myself. As I went, my thoughts beat in rhythm to my count, my mind spitting up all sorts of pesky questions that made me doubt my decision.

_Unus, duo, tres, quattor..._

Was this really a good idea? Was there something else I could have done, other than this, to get the revenant to let Davina go? Some way out that I just hadn't seen?

_Quinque, sex, septem, octo, novem..._

How did I know that he was even really going to let her go once I turned myself in? I had no guarantees...what if he just decided to keep both of us?

_Decim, undecim, duodecim, tredecim, quattuordecim..._

What was he going to do with me? Ship me straight to my uncle, or torture me first, to pay me back for the fight he'd lost against me and my brother?

_Quindecim, sedecim, septendecim..._

God, my brother...what was Ezra thinking? Was he trying to come and save me from myself? Was he mad at Elijah and Klaus for not being able to stop me?

_Duodēvīgintī , ūndēvīgintī..._

Elijah...what was he thinking, right this minute? Was he upset over my sacrifice? Was he worried about what would happen to me? Did he wish there was another way?

Did he care about me at all?

By the time I finally counted off all _octoginta_ paces, I wanted to scream.

When Patrick Evans dropped drown from the branches of a nearby willow tree and injected me with a needle that reeked of wolfsbane, I did scream.

And then everything went dark.


	48. Chapter 48

**" I fell in love with you.**

**I don't know how.**  
**I don't know why.**  
**I just did."**

* * *

Elijah was pacing back and forth in the courtyard, only half listening as Klaus and Ezra argued over what to do to find Zoe and bring her back. Their debate escalated until Marcel chimed in that maybe they should just not do anything. At that point Ezra lunged for Marcel's throat, snarling; the witch-wolf even managed to get in a hard punch that sent Marcel careening across the courtyard before Klaus succeeded in peeling him off the former king of the Quarter. Ezra fought against Klaus, though, still struggling to get at Marcel, his eyes glowing an eerie gold-blue that sent a tingle of trepidation down Elijah's spine.

"Elijah," Klaus snapped suddenly, "would you give me a hand here?"

Elijah hesitated ever so briefly, then joined his brother is restraining Ezra until the other man had calmed down. Truth be told, Elijah was grateful to focus on keeping Ezra under control; Marcel's suggestion to leave Zoe to her own devices had made Elijah see red as well, and it had taken all his self-control to keep himself from taking a swing at Marcel, too.

A tense silence descended upon them as Ezra shoved away from both Klaus and Elijah, running his hands anxiously through his hair and leaving it sticking up in odd directions. "I need to find my sister," he said finally, and the desperation in his voice made Elijah wince. Zoe, he realized, was Ezra's entire world. With their parents murdered and their uncle pursuing them with ill intent, Zoe was all the family Ezra had left in all the world. It was no wonder he was so desperate to keep her safe.

Wishing they had _something_ to work with, he checked his phone for any incoming messages from Rebekah, who they'd sent with Camille to investigate in the portions of the city that Elijah, Klaus, and Ezra hadn't checked yet.

 _No luck yet_ , was his sister's text response when he asked her for an update. _Haven't found anything. Headed back now._

Elijah came dangerously close to crushing his phone in his hand; no news was not the news he wanted to hear.

Rebekah and Cami arrived back at the compound about twenty minutes later, and after checking in and confirming that nothing new had come to light, both went upstairs to keep Hayley company. Elijah couldn't help but notice the looks that passed between his brother and the blonde bartender, but as preoccupied as he was with Zoe's absence, he dismissed it from his thoughts for the moment.

Seven minutes and thirty-four seconds after that, Davina ran into the compound, covered in dirt and scratches and bawling her eyes out. Elijah couldn't do much more than stare at her; he couldn't believe that the revenant had actually kept his word and let the girl go.

Marcel sped over to her at once and wrapped her in a fierce hug. "Are you hurt?" he asked her urgently, brushing her tangled hair out of her face.

"No." She sniffed. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt. I just..." More tears streamed down her cheeks. "I was just so _helpless_ , Marcel. None of the spells I tried to use worked right against him. I couldn't _do_ anything."

"A lot of traditional magic won't work on a revenant," Ezra explained tiredly as everyone shot him questioning looks. "Because they're powered by necromancy, which is antithetical to most magic, it's almost like they're black holes for certain types of spells. Only a powerful witch with experience fighting revenants would stand a chance."

"Does Zoe stand a chance?" Elijah asked, not daring to hope.

Ezra seemed to consider it, pursing his lips. But then he shook his head. "Technically? Yes, she _could_ use her magic against him and maybe win. But she won't."

"Why not?" Klaus asked.

Ezra sighed. "Because Zoe doesn't use her magic unless she absolutely has to. She had...some problems, the last time she got really deep into her magic. So she tries not to use very much of it anymore. She'll do small things, like protection charms and stuff, but nothing major."

"And it would take something major to deal with Evans," Elijah deduced.

"Very, very major, " Ezra agreed. "The magic would need to be a working on par with our uncle, who was the one who revived Patrick Evans in the first place. And he's a powerful motherfucker; Zoe's good, great even, but our uncle...he's on a totally different level."

"So we can't count on Zoe to free herself this time," Klaus remarked. "Pity."

Ezra bared his teeth at Klaus in a silent warning to watch his flippant tone, but Elijah paid it little attention, too preoccupied with the fact that right now, right this minute, Zoe was being held captive and they had no way to go to her and set her free.

"I know where he's taking her," Davina volunteered, "but I don't know how to get in." She gave another choked sob. "I'm so sorry, Marcel," she cried. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I swear! I just wanted to go for a walk with Tim."

Marcel wrapped his arms around her again, a look of fierce paternal protectiveness coming over his face. "I know, baby girl," he said soothingly. "It ain't your fault, don't worry."

Ezra had a peeved look on his face, like he disagreed with Marcel's statement and Elijah couldn't help but feel inclined to feel similarly irritated; if Davina hadn't acted so impulsively and childishly, the revenant Patrick Evans wouldn't have had a chance to grab her and use her as leverage against Zoe. Logically, Elijah knew that Davina _was_ still a child, and children sometimes did foolish things. But the fire in his heart didn't want to be understanding, didn't want to forgive. The beast inside of him wanted blood, wanted to rend and tear until the streets ran red and Zoe was safe again.

* * *

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make myself wake up. I was deeply unconscious, but somehow still aware enough to _know_ that I wasn't awake.

Instead of everything just being shadows and darkness like I would have expected, though, it was like I was stuck in some strange foggy world. I was standing in what seemed to the middle of a lonesome field, dressed in just a tank top and jean shorts, my bare feet itchy in the overgrown grass, with fog pressing in all around me. Reaching out a hand, I was disturbed to see it disappear from view barely a foot from my face; I'd never seen fog this thick or dense in real life, and it made me uncomfortable. I withdrew my hand and crossed my arms, trying to fend off the chill of the damp fog. How the hell was I shivering from the cold when none of this was even _real_? Thinking about it made my head hurt, so I turned my thoughts to other things.

For whatever reason, my brain decided that thinking of Elijah would be the prefect thing to do right then, and although I wasn't sure I agreed with my subconscious, the dreamscape around me seemed to take my unconscious mind's word as law, because suddenly Elijah's voice was echoing around me from the fog, playing back snippets of conversations we'd had or things I'd overheard him saying. There didn't seem to be any sort of order to it, just a cacophony of chatter that would have been maddening had it not been the voice of someone I cared so deeply for.

" _You seem to be in something of a rush."_ His first words to me, that day in the French Quarter.

 _"My apologies,"_   he'd told me when I'd reacted poorly to being grabbed so suddenly. _"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."_

" _Who are you?"_ he'd asked, looking at me curiously.

 _"I'm sure we'll meet again,"_ he'd said at our parting. And we had.

More echoes came through the thick fog, the sound of Elijah's voice bouncing all around me.

" _I will fight for my family until my last breath,"_ he'd declared.

" _Darling, we've got to stop meeting like this,"_ he'd said that day in the bayou. _"This is how rumors begin."_

" _I'm not trying to impress the girl,"_ he'd said to Rebekah.

" _Nobody hurts my family and lives,"_ he'd promised.

" _We thought we'd come here to wage a war for power. This is about family."_ It was always about family with Elijah. Always and forever, wasn't that what he and his siblings had promised each other? I couldn't help but wonder, though...did forever really mean always?

And then more snippets closer to my heart began coming out of the blanket of mist, other voices mingling in with Elijah's, all the tones and inflections weaving together and bringing to mind the precious memories that they represented.

" _Are you alright?"_ he'd asked me, that night I'd come home from fighting Patrick Evans for the first time. _"Are you...naked?"_   he'd asked after that, staring at me dressed in just a leather jacket because my shift back to human form had left me without my clothes.

" _No!"_ I'd said at once. _"I'm wearing a jacket, duh. Not naked at all, definitely not."_

" _And...underneath the jacket?"_ he'd replied.

Panicking, I'd flailed madly and bolted for my room- _"Bye!"_ \- and slammed the door in Elijah's face.

 _"Good night, Zoe,"_ he'd said, voice sounding confused but affectionate.

" _Zoe stays here,"_ he'd said, when Sophie had tried to send me away with Rebekah when Hayley had been cursed to have a miscarriage.

 _"We just need time,"_ he'd said not long after that, scooping up Hayley in his arms and walking with her into the cold water of the pool. I hadn't liked him holding her so close, but I'd understood that protecting Hayley and her baby outweighed any of my personal misgivings.

" _Holy Mother of God,"_ I'd exclaimed after learning that Klaus had bitten his brother and left him to suffer in the bayou. _"You bit Elijah? And left him behind?!"_

 _"Back to the bayou,"_ I'd snarled when asked where I was going; the thought of leaving Elijah, out there and in agony, had been completely unbearable to me. _"I am going,"_ I'd said, _"and whoever tries to stop me is going to end up roadkill."_

" _This is your one warning,"_ I had said to the assassins who'd been attacking Hayley and Elijah when I found them. _"Leave or die."_

 _"Where's Elijah?"_ I'd asked Hayley after annihilating the assassins, almost frantic with worry. Because Elijah was important to me, because he _mattered_ , in a way no one had ever mattered to me before. Because if anything ever happened to him, I would shatter into a thousand pieces, even if I didn't understand why.

" _Zoe Storme?"_ Elijah had whispered in confusion after noticing me by his side with Hayley. _"What...are you doing here?"_

 _"You're such an idiot,"_ I'd told him. _"Why wouldn't I be here?"_

" _I'm not alone,"_ he'd told Hayley when she'd objected to leaving his side. _"Zoe is here now."_

I hadn't noticed it at the time, but every little moment between us had been chipping away at the wall around my heart. Every word, every glance. Every time he walked into a room or spoke even just a few words. All those little moments had added up to become something I would never have expected, something terrifying and incredible.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I'd fallen in love with Elijah Mikaelson.

* * *

"Alfred E. Priestley Junior High," Ezra repeated dubiously, giving Davina a look that said he didn't even know what to make of her declaration.

"I know it seems ridiculous," she said defensively. "But I'm _sure_ that that's where that freak is taking Zoe. When one of my spells backfired," she added hesitantly, "I got a glimpse into his thoughts. The school is abandoned," she went on. "It's been deserted for over twenty years now. It would be the perfect place to hide her."

"So what are we waiting for, then?" Elijah asked, heading for the door. "Let's go." It was an enormous relief, to finally have a place to look, to have something to _do_ about Zoe's disappearance. To have a chance to bring her home.

"You're in an awful hurry," Klaus noted in a low voice as he caught up with him as he strode briskly to the car. "Something you care to share, brother?"

"Ask me again once Zoe is safe," Elijah replied curtly, but even saying it, he wasn't sure if he could even put what he was feeling into words if Klaus did ask him again. He couldn't understand the tangle of emotions that was making his heart twist in his chest; he'd never felt this way before, not even once that he could recall.

What was it about Zoe Storme that was making this tempest of emotion rage inside him?

He allowed Klaus to drive, simply because his younger brother had absolutely no regard for traffic laws and didn't seem to be plagued by the distress that was hounding Elijah to the point of distraction.

They arrived at their destination after what might have been both the fastest and longest drive of his life; he knew that Klaus had broken just about every speed limit along the way, but it had still felt like an endless eternity as he'd sat waiting in the passenger seat.

As they all piled out of the car, Elijah wasted no time in entering the dilapidated school building.  
  
Ezra followed close behind, his eyes glowing wolf-gold in the dark. Zoe's brother walked ahead of their little group for a moment, then stopped to stare at an old chalkboard hanging half in and half out of an old classroom. "Well," he said, "that's disturbing."

Puzzled, Elijah joined him, then just blinked in surprise, because written upon the old chalkboard, over and over again, were the words "I will not murder my classmates." And on another chalkboard laying on the floor farther down the hall was a macabre doodle of someone wielding a large butcher knife, accompanied by another stick figure drawn sprawled out another the first, a little speech bubble saying "Help me!" coming from his mouth.

"Gee," Ezra said sarcastically, "I wonder why the school was shut down."

Klaus snorted. "Well, it's reassuring to know that I'm not the only person who had a troubled childhood." He picked up a dusty piece of chalk from the floor and added a little gravestone to the side of the original doodle.

"Seriously?" Ezra asked, rolling his eyes.

Klaus just shrugged.

Ezra shook his head. "Unbelievable," he muttered, then went ramrod stuff, his nostrils flaring as his eyes glowed gold once more, this time tinged with that uncanny blue again. "The revenant is here," he growled. "Zoe, too," he added, and the relief in his voice was obvious. "Their scents are coming from upstairs, but I don't think they're in the same room; his scent is more faint. Farther away, I think."

There weren't words to describe the intense relief that swept through Elijah's body. _She's alright. She's here._ He repeated those words to himself, over and over again, like a mantra to hold back the fury that was sizzling through his blood and demanding that he track down Patrick Evans and tear the fiend limb from limb.

He raced for the stairs, taking the steps two at a time in his haste to get to her, to see her, to know that she was really there. To touch her, to hold her. To see her give him that look that made him want to follow after her just to see what mischief she'd find next. To see that impish smile that quirked up her lips when she thought of something amusing. To see the fire in her eyes when she lost her temper. To see her stammer with that luminescent blush spreading across her cheeks whenever a rare moment of embarrassment overtook her. To see her laughing, and crying, and shouting.

He needed to see her. Just see her.

He eventually managed to single out the sound of her heartbeat, slow and steady like she was deeply asleep, and he followed it to the room where she was being held, Ezra hot on his heels with Klaus not far behind, pulling up the rear to keep a lookout for Evans since clearly Elijah and Ezra weren't thinking of anything other than getting to Zoe.

They found her in what seemed to be an abandoned nurse's office. She was unconscious on a cot in the corner of the room, one hand cuffed to the rusted metal leg of a nearby desk. Her skin was even paler than normal and her eyebrows were pulled down in a faint frown as if her dreams were troubling her.

"Zoe?" Ezra said frantically, learning over to check her pulse. "Z, can you hear me?"

No response, just Zoe laying there, so deep in slumber that if Elijah couldn't hear the beat of her heart and see the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest he'd have thought she was dead. The very thought of it made his own heart seize up in his chest, and he had to take a moment to steady himself.

"He must have drugged her," Klaus said, kneeling down to rip apart the cuffs chaining her. "Whatever it is, it's not like she can die from it, so let's get the hell out of here and worry about it later."

Ezra looked like he wanted to consider arguing, then stiffened. "You're right," he said tightly. "Evans' scent is getting closer. We need to get out of there."

Despite his intense desire to rip the revenant to shreds, Zoe was the priority, and Elijah wasted no time in scooping her up from the cot and cradling her close to his chest. He took a moment to savor the scent of strawberries and cream that was uniquely Zoe's, the aroma one that still surprised him; just as he thought when he'd first met her, he always expected a fierce scent, not something so gentle. But then again, Zoe was a study in contradictions; it was one of the qualities he loved most about her.

He could see the surprise in Klaus and Ezra's faces as they saw him holding Zoe so carefully, but he ignored the questions in their eyes. "We need to hurry and leave before Evans realizes we're here," he said curtly, brushing past them and heading back to the stairs. Every step of the way, he watched Zoe's face, searching for some sign that she might stir and awaken. But she just slept on, lost deep in whatever dream she'd fallen into.

They made it outside without encountering Evans, which Elijah found a peculiar relief; surely the revenant should have been keeping a closer watch on his prisoner? But then again, Evans probably hadn't realized that Davina had probed into his thoughts, wouldn't have expected them to figure out where he was keeping Zoe and come rescue her. Whatever the reason, Elijah couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than grateful.

He gently laid Zoe down in the backseat, making sure to arrange her so that she would comfortable, then he slipped in beside her. Waiting for Ezra and Klaus to climb in and start the car, he took a moment to look down at her face again, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face with a tenderness he couldn't seem to help. His fingers caressed the edge of her cheek gently, and to his surprise she stirred, ever so slightly, her face turning so that she was leaning into his touch.

"Elijah," she murmured softly, her voice barely audible. For a moment, he thought she was regaining consciousness, but then he realized that she was still dreaming, her heartbeat not changing pace and her breathing remaining even.

She was dreaming, and saying his name.

He took her hand gently in his, and held it the entire drive back to the Abattoir, wondering what exactly the warmth in his chest meant for how things would be when Zoe woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, buddy, it means that things are going to be complicated. Because this is Zoe we're talking about here. XD Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know you were probably expecting a big fight scene with Patrick, but honestly it just didn't seem to fit for this part of the story. I wanted to focus more on Elijah, and on the emotional impact this was having on him; that's also why I didn't put as much emphasis on Ezra during this chapter as well. It's not that he wasn't super pissed and worried about Zoe, too, but we've already seen him wig out multiple times over Zoe's well-being; I wanted us to see how Elijah was feeling. Also, and this is largely unrelated, but Ezra (maybe) has an easier time not totally flipping his shit when Klaus is around. Just saying.
> 
> Oh, and this is just a fun little tidbit: that junior high school (Alfred E. Priestley Junior High) is actually a real place in New Orleans. I think it's for sale or up for auction or something. But if you're the curious sort, you can google it and an article about it should pop up. ;D
> 
> Anyway, drop me a review and let me know what you thought of this latest chapter. Good, bad? Did you like seeing from ELijah's perspective? Did you like the flashbacks/memories of just about every single Zoe/Elijah interaction? Are you surprised that Patrick really did let Davina go? Did we like the rescue? With Klaus snapping the cuffs and Elijah doing a bridal carry? Let me know how you feel about everything! I adore feedback. :D
> 
> See you next time!


	49. Chapter 49

**"When I first met you I never realized how much you would end up meaning to me."**

* * *

I was told when I woke up that I'd been unconscious for two and a half days. The loss of time disturbed me, especially since I'd spent that time trapped inside my head, mired within an endless fog.

And what I'd learned in that fog absolutely __terrified__ me.

I was in love with Elijah.

And not just a schoolgirl-crush sort of love. After taking a moment to check in with my wolfside and really assess how I was feeling, I'd realized that this wasn't some passing infatuation. This was something else entirely.

Something powerful and deep, a feeling that made me anchored while at the same time flinging me out into space.

If this really was love, I was not sure I wanted it because it made me feel like I was about to completely lose my mind.

It certainly didn't help that barely fifteen minutes after waking up to find Elijah sitting by my bedside, Hayley had come barging into the room, demanding his help with something. And...he'd gone with her.

Ezra had told me that Elijah had sat by my bedside the entire time I'd been unconscious; Klaus had even confirmed it, in a roundabout I-can't-believe-my-brother-is-so-softhearted sort of way. But as much as I wanted to take that as some sort of sign, I knew better.

If I was the one he truly cared for, he wouldn't be jumping at the drop of a hat to do __Hayley's__ bidding.

As I'd figured from the start, Hayley was the one Elijah cared about the most. She was the one he protected and fretted over, the one he brought ginger ale and crackers to when her pregnancy got the best of her and the nausea got to be too much. She was the one he showed such tenderness to.

She was the one he was going to choose, not me.

Not me.

I took a moment to bury my face in my pillow and cry, then sat up and rubbed at my face, wiping the tears away. It was painful to realize that Elijah would never feel me what I felt for him, but that was fine. I'd gone without that sort of love for this long, after all; I could get by without it from here on out, too.

At least that was what I told myself; the ache in my chest where it felt like I'd ripped out my own heart begged to differ, but I focused hard on ignoring that.

Once I'd pieced myself together into a semblance of normality, I got out of bed and got dressed. After finger-brushing the worst of the tangles in my hair, I left my room to see what was going on in the rest of the compound. True to my rotten luck, I was just heading downstairs to get something to eat when I crashed into Elijah.

My heart lifted at seeing him; it seemed that despite my determination to not feel anything, his very presence was enough to affect me.

"Zoe," he said, an expression I couldn't read flitting across his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I said. "Still a little tired, I guess."

"I see," was his only response.

And so we stood there awkwardly as the silence grew between us. I shifted nervously from foot to foot, unable to think of a single thing to say; Elijah, likewise, looked uncomfortable and at a loss for words.

We remained like that for the span of several heartbeats, and then the silence was broken by the sound of screaming and shouting from upstairs.

Exchanging alarmed looks, Elijah and I both turned and raced back up the stairs. Following the racket to its source, we found Davina in her room, sobbing hysterically as Marcel held her.

"What the hell is going on here?" a familiar surly voice demanded. and I gave a little jump of surprise because I hadn't heard Klaus approaching us form behind; I shot him a chastising glare, which he ignored completely. To my increasing annoyance, Hayley appeared beside him a moment later, peering into the room with a concerned expression.

"She had another vision," Marcel explained quietly once he'd managed to calm Davina down enough so that she wasn't wailing in fear. It took me a moment to realize that Davina had actually __fallen asleep__ in Marcel's embrace, although I suppose 'passed out' might have been the more accurate description.

"She's not normally like this," Marcel said as he picked her up and tucked her back into bed. "But with the other witches so active, it's starting to affect her. And she was already struggling with everything that's going on."

"These drawings," Elijah asked suddenly, going over to Davina's desk, which was piled high with paper, "what are they?"

"She drew those the whole time she was in the attic," Marcel replied. "She said they're different than what she draws when she senses magic." He hesitated before continuing. "These ones," he said at last, picking one up, "she called them evil."

"I wonder if they represent some kind of premonition," Elijah questioned thoughtfully as we all filed out of Davina's room, leaving Marcel along to tend after his ward.

I snagged a handful of Davina's sketches on my way out the door. "Why don't we have a look," I suggested, "and find out?"

Which was how Elijah and I ended up sitting on the floor in one of the unused guest rooms, going through Davina's sketches and trying to put them together in a way that made some sort of sense. After a time, Hayley joined us. I tried not to be annoyed with the way she kept making doe-eyes at Elijah and shooting him looks, but it was hard. The territorial side of my wolf wanted to tackle her and rip out her throat, and the territorial human in me wanted to tackle her and rip out her hair, so I tried to keep my distance from her and focus on the drawings as much as possible. It was, after all, none of my business if Hayley kept flirting with Elijah.

All of these petty preoccupations, however, fell away entirely as we finally got the answer we'd been looking for from Davina's drawings.

"Oh my God," Hayley said in shock. "Isn't that..."

"Celeste," Elijah breathed, staring at the drawing in a combination of horror and awed disbelief.

I, meanwhile, was so stunned that I fell silent, unable to get any sort of sound out of my throat.

Celeste. Elijah's Celeste, the woman he'd loved and lost.

The woman who was apparently, somehow, behind all the trouble with the witches.

"Isn't she dead?" I finally said. "I mean, Hayley and I saw your memories, Elijah, she died." I glanced to Hayley for confirmation, then frowned as I saw her frantically punching numbers into her phone. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Come on, Sophie," she muttered, not seeming to hear me. "Pick up, pick up." She cursed as her call bounced to voice mail.

"What is it?" Elijah asked, looking at Hayley with concern. "What's wrong?"

"It's Sophie," Hayley replied, hitting redial and then cursing again when Sophie still didn't answer. Then Hayley flashed Elijah a guilty look. "Don't be mad," she said to him, "okay? But there's something I need to tell you."

He gave her a puzzled look but gestured for her to continue speaking.

"Sophie came to me," Hayley explained, twisting her fingers together nervously. "She said she needed help, needed to find the body of a powerful with and absorb her power."

"Why the hell would you do anything to help her?" I demanded angrily. "She and her coven are the enemy, or have you forgotten that?"

"She said she could undo the curse on my family," Hayley snapped. "Turn them back to the way they were before. So I agreed."

Elijah took a long moment to consider, then slowly nodded. "Go on."

She flushed guiltily. "She said she knew of a witch whose body had...never been found. Because...because you buried her in secret."

Elijah's expression turned downright arctic as the implications of what Hayley was saying began to dawn on him. "You helped her find the location," he realized.

"I went through your journals," Hayley admitted. "I found where you'd written about it, written about _her_."

"And then divulged this information, my personal information, to our enemies."

Hayley flinched at his cold anger, and even I scooted back a little because the look on his face was absolutely terrifying; his eyes were dark with fury and his jaw was clenched so hard it was like he'd been carved from stone.

"I'm sorry," Hayley said meekly. "Elijah, I'm __so__ sorry, but-"

Elijah just shook his head. "Don't," he said, and his voice wasn't frigid anymore, but pained. "Just...don't." He took a deep breath, obviously wrestling to regain his self-control.

I'd never wanted to strangle someone so badly in my entire life. How could she have done this to him? Betrayed his trust like that, when it was obvious how much he cared for her? How could she be so selfish, hurting him for her own gain?

Okay, yes, technically it had been for the greater good of her long-lost family. Whatever. It wasn't like they'd been in immediate mortal danger or something; there had been time for her to work out another way, a way to help them that wouldn't have involved betrayed the one person who'd put her needs before everything else ever since he'd first met her.

I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my hands, and looked down to discover that I'd clenched my hands so tightly into fists that my nails had dug into my palms, drawing blood.

Elijah, presumably scenting the blood, looked over at me sharply. "Zoe?

"It's nothing," I muttered, scrambling to my feet and bolting for the door. "I'll see you later."

I was down the stairs and out into the street before anyone could give thought to chasing me. Not that I expected anyone to come after me, anyway; Ezra might have, but last I'd seen of him he'd been moderating a sibling quarrel between Klaus and Rebekah. And Elijah certainly wouldn't be following. The person he loved was right there beside him; he wasn't going to waste time running after me.

* * *

By the time Elijah realized that Zoe was leaving the compound and not just returning to her room, it was too late to catch her, and he wanted to curse his own idiocy.

Something had obviously been upsetting her, and he shouldn't have let her go running off on her own like that. Especially so soon after getting her back.

"Elijah," Hayley said plaintively, trying once more to apologize. "Please, I just-"

"Not now," he snapped at her. "We'll discuss this more later."

She made a face like he'd slapped her and stood up abruptly. "Fine," she said, looking both hurt and angry. "If that's what you want."

"It is," he said curtly. He honestly did not want to deal with Hayley right now; he was much more preoccupied with Zoe, and how she hadn't been acting like herself since waking up from her deep slumber.

Hayley gave him a furious, wounded look, then stormed from the room like she'd expected a different response than the one he'd given.

He sighed, shaking his head. He didn't know what she wanted him to say; she'd betrayed his trust in a terrible way, and as much as he wanted to be the bigger person and simply let it go, he couldn't. He'd loved Celeste, or at least it had felt like love at the time, and he'd buried her feeling like his heart had died along with her. That Hayley had done this, had trampled all over his feelings...he didn't even know what to _think_ , much less say.

Zoe, he knew, would _never_ have done something like this, not in a hundred thousand years. No, Zoe got by on her own power and wits, never relying on underhanded tricks or deceit. She'd hidden who and what she was, but only out of necessity, and in everything else she was straightforward to the point of brazenness.

He loved that about her, too. It was remarkably refreshing, to have someone in his life who would speak her mind without any machinations or double-meanings to her words. To have someone he knew he could rely on to do exactly what she said she would, regardless of whatever obstacles she encountered.

To have someone he wanted to spend more time with, for no other reason than to simply be with her.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! How are you today? Good, I hope?
> 
> Okay, so...CAN YOU BELIEVE WE'VE HIT THE FIFTY CHAPTER MILESTONE?! ISN'T THIS INCREDIBLE?! Thank you all SO much for being so supportive and wonderful and amazing; this story would be nothing without all of you fantastic readers, so you have my utmost gratitude for your patronage. :) 
> 
> Anyway, we've finally reached...the eleventh episode! I know, I know, we're still barely halfway through the first season, but I think things are going pretty good so far, all things considered. XD This chapter is a bit on the short side, but the update itself is coming early, so hopefully the two factors balance each other out. XD Enjoy!

" **Days will pass and turn into years, but I will always remember you with silent tears."**

* * *

Before I realized it, I'd walked about ten blocks, ending up in a part of the city I wasn't overly familiar with. Annoyed with myself for getting lost, I about-faced and started retracing my steps.

I'd almost made it back to the compound when suddenly the ground lurched underneath my feet like we were in the middle of an earthquake.

But this was no earthquake; I could feel the magic sizzling through the air and shooting through the ground.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. And I had a terrible hunch about the source of this power. And sure enough, when I followed my instincts and let my feet carry me to the epicenter of the power, I ended up right back at the compound.

_Davina._

I raced back into the compound, only to crash into Elijah, who seemed to be leaving.

"Davina," I blurted out before he could say anything. "Is she okay?"

"We're not sure," he replied, casting a worried look upstairs. "But since she was vomiting up dirt just a moment ago, I'd wager probably not."

My own stomach gave a sympathetic lurch. "Okay, yeah, that's not good."

"No, it isn't." He looked at me carefully for a moment before speaking again. "I'm going to speak with Sophie, see what she knows about this latest development. Would you care to join me?"

My jaw dropped so fast and so far that I was surprised it didn't hit the ground. I recovered my composure quickly enough, though, and nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

When we found Sophie, she was knee deep in grave dirt and looking exhausted. She was also arguing with someone on the phone.

"No, wait," she snapped. "That isn't part of our deal! I told-" She threw up her free hand in exasperation. "Okay, fine. Whatever. It's not like I have a choice. If I don't do this, my niece will never come back. If digging up some old bones and helping you get what you want means I get Monique back, I don't care about anything else."

"I happen to care," Elijah said, appearing out of the darkness so suddenly that he startled Sophie badly enough that she dropped her phone; it fell and hit the ground sharply, the screen cracking from the impact and then going dark as it met its end.

"Elijah," Sophie said nervously, eyes darting between us."Zoe." She swallowed hard. "I can explain-" she began to say, but Elijah was having none of it, zooming over to her with vampire speed and wrenching her away from Celeste's final resting place.

"You're coming with us," he told her severely.

* * *

"So," Elijah said once we'd brought Sophie back to the Abattoir for a friendly little interrogation, "you have stolen the remains of the very person Davina's been drawing for months. Would you care to explain this startling coincidence?"

"I can't," Sophie said, staring at one of Davina's sketches in utter disbelief. "I didn't even know who Celeste Dubois was until-" She broke off with an alarmed look as the house gave a sudden violent shudder. "Was that Davina?"

"Charming little habit she's developed," Klaus said sourly.

Ezra gave the Original hybrid an exasperated look. "It's not like she's doing it on purpose," he said chidingly. "She can't help it."

Klaus just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What about the earthquake I felt today?" Sophie pressed, her voice taking on an undertone of urgency that made me narrow my eyes and watch her more closely.

"Also Davina," Rebekah replied. "And she's taken to vomiting dirt as well."

"Oh." Sophie went deathly pale. "We have a huge problem. I thought we had more time, but we need to complete the Harvest _now._ "

"Said the desperate witch conveniently," Klaus noted snidely.

"I'm serious," Sophie snapped. "That earthquake you just felt? It's barely a preview of the disaster movie that's about to hit us."

"Why should we believe you?" Ezra demanded. "You've done nothing but manipulate us from day one."

Sophie made a sound of aggravation. "You've met Davina," she said impatiently. "You know her story. For months now she'd been holding the power of the three girls who were sacrificed in the Harvest ritual. A force that was meant to flow _through_ her and _back_ into the Earth."

"It's too much," I realized. "Too much power for one person to hold."

"It's tearing her apart," Sophie agreed. "And it will take us down with it if we don't do something."

* * *

In the end, we had to sedate Davina.

Even with the magic tearing her apart, she wanted no part in the Harvest ritual. She didn't trust it not to be a lie, and I didn't blame her; personally, I thought it was a load of bullshit, too.

Marcel had objected the entire time, refusing to the see the girl he'd taken in be sacrificed.

"I saved Davina from the Harvest," he snapped. "And now you want me to just hand her over?"

"Do you think I'm happy about this?" Klaus demanded, and for all that he was a key facilitator in arranging Davina's demise, I knew that what he said was true; he didn't want to do this. But it was the only choice. "I was willing to chalk up the earthquake to hideous coincide," Klaus went on, "but these winds?" He shook his head. "If Davina is not sacrificed, then every inch of earth that shook, everything that blew about earlier, will soon be drenched in water and consumed by fire!"

"Oh!" Marcel exclaimed sarcastically. " _Now_ you care about the city."

"We ought to," Elijah interjected. "We built it."

"And we all saw it burned to the ground twice," Klaus finished. "I will _not_ let that happen again. Do you understand?"

Marcel just shook his head mutely, looking like he wanted nothing more than to punch Klaus in the face. Not saying a single word, he strode from the room.

Elijah sighed. "Not a people person, are you, Niklaus?"

"Nonsense," Klaus replied immediately. "I love people. Just on my way to warn a couple of prominent ones in case the weather gets out of hand. Care to join me?"

"No," Elijah answered. "Sophie Deveraux shall be consecrating Celeste's remains, and though her actions are reprehensible, I should still pay my respects." He turned to me. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd feel more comfortable is you would accompany me, Zoe."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, but I reminded myself sternly that he wasn't looking to me for any sort of comfort; more than likely, he just wanted another witch there to keep an eye on Sophie.

The reason didn't matter, though, because I found myself unable to say no. "Sure," I said. "Whatever you need."

He smiled at me in gratitude, but then all cheer dropped from his face when Hayley popped into the doorway.

"Hey," she said to Elijah. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Just on my way out," he told her curtly, stepping past her without so much as glancing in her direction; he paused only to look back over his shoulder at me. "Coming, Zoe?"

Ignoring the glare Hayley was sending in my direction (seriously, I was lucky she didn't have Clark Kent's laser vision), I followed after him.

I was starting to realize that I'd follow him just about anywhere.

* * *

"I don't like this," Ezra said, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Rebekah sighed. "I know," she said, also for the hundredth time.

He was grateful that she wasn't trying to convince him that this was the right thing to do, because he didn't know if he'd be able to look at her the same if she did. But he could tell that she hated this, too; Rebekah had befriended Davina, albeit briefly and tenuously, and he could tell her us-girls-have-to-stick-together outlook had taken a massive blow from the inescapable fact that they needed to sacrifice an innocent girl to save themselves.

"I don't like this," he muttered again.

"I know," Rebekah said tiredly, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so...yeah. Your thoughts, my friends? The chapter was fairly short again, because it's a build-up chapter leading into all the craziness that comes in the next chapter. And even though this chapter was brief, important things happened, notably the Davina-is-losing-control bit, along with Elijah giving Hayley the cold shoulder which I, as always, really enjoyed. XD Anyway, what did you guys think of everything?
> 
> Are we upset about needing to sacrifice Davina? Are we suspicious of who Sophie was talking to on the phone? I know it's a blink-and-miss-it thing, but that'll come back into play again soon. ;)
> 
> How are we feeling about Elijah giving Hayley the cold shoulder? How are we feeling about Elijah and Zoe realizing that they're kind of starting to fall in love with each other?!
> 
> I hope I'm not being too subtle (or too obvious?) with them and their feelings; they're both sort of at that weird "I really like this person but there's no way they could possibly like me back" stage. Or at least Zoe is, because she's got some massive issues, apparently, where Elijah and romance are concerned. XD They are going to get together, though, I swear! I actually have a nice confession/kissing scene written up, but it doesn't happen in the immediate future. It's a little further along in the story, since obviously we're not quite at a making out stage in the Elijah/Zoe relationship yet, but still. I consider it a good sign. :D
> 
> And on the note of relationships, how's the Ezra/Rebekah thing feeling to everyone? As I've said before, I'm trying to go for a gentler feeling for their relationship when compared to the other pairings in the story, because I think both Ezra and Rebekah deserve that sort of relationship; they both have a history of epically failed romances that generally involved violence, so I think something more soft and slow-moving is the way to go? Ezra in particular is understandably traumatized by relationships in general, so he's going to be moving really slowly when it comes to things like this. And Rebekah's got more than her fair share of self-esteem and trust issues, so it'll be another relationship tangle in the end, I'm sure. XD
> 
> Anyway, drop me a review if you've got a second to spare! I thrive on feedback; it really helps me to know what you guys are liking (or not liking) about the story so far. :) Also, it's the fiftieth chapter, and a review of any sort would be the perfect "anniversary" gift. ;D
> 
> The next chapter will be up by the end of the week sometime, so I'll see you guys then! :)


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is...pretty intense once things get rolling. And I once again take massive liberties and throw huge chunks of canon out the window. I'd say that I'm sorry, but...I think we all know that I'm not really sorry. XD So I'll just say that I hope that everything that happens is (relatively) believable to everyone. :)
> 
> On a somewhat random note, you get to find out what Zoe's full birth name is in this chapter!

" **I'm not telling you it's going to be easy, but I'm telling you it's going to be worth it."**

* * *

We arrived at the cemetery to find the witch Sabine already there. Looking down at the covered remains with an unreadable expression on her face, she glanced over at us in faint surprise as we approached. "You don't need to be here so soon," she told us. "It's gonna take Sophie some time to prepare for the consecration."

"We know," I said when Elijah made no move to speak. "That's not why we're here."

"Oh?" Sabine arched an eyebrow. "So why are you here?"

"To pay our respects,"Elijah said softly, kneeling besides Celeste's remains. "I owe her that much."

Sabine watched him for a long silent moment, and something about the was she was looking at him made me really uncomfortable, almost like I had fire-ants crawling over my skin.

Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of Elijah's phone ringing; my own phone went off a moment later, and after exchanging worried looks, we stepped back and away to answer our calls.

"Hello?" I said questioningly.

"Hey, Z, it's me."

"Hey, Ezra. What's up?"

"Bad news, like always. Marcel took Davina, and we can't track him."

Well, that was inconvenient...but not surprising. "Any idea where he would take her?"

"Not a clue. Klaus and Bekah are checking around, but so far nothing."

I cursed under my breath. "This sucks, man. I want to be mad that he took her, but at the same time I feel guilty because I don't want her to die."

"Yeah, you're not alone in that." He sighed. "Any thoughts on how to find Marcel? Because as much as we hate it, Davina needs to go through with the Harvest, or the entire city will be destroyed."

I thought it over, then cursed again, because there was only one way I could think of that would be guaranteed to succeed. "I'll need to do a tracking spell."

My brother's response was immediate and heartfelt. "Fuck no," he snapped. "Absolutely not."

"It's the only way," I said reasonably.

"The hell it is!"

I took a deep breath and held it to the count of ten, working to keep my frustration in check. It's not like I didn't understand where he was coming from; I did.

The last time I'd been truly magically had been...I couldn't even remember. Five years ago? A decade? I wasn't even sure. But the point was that until recently, I hadn't been using my magic much at all; even our basic protection charms had been done mostly by Ezra.

The reason for this was actually composed of many smaller and more complicated reasons that I didn't like to think about, but one of those notable reasons was that once I started actively practicing powerful magic, I had trouble stopping. I wouldn't describe it as an addiction per se, but it's as good a description as any, I suppose. Among the magical communities, those of us with that needy hunger for magic are called "cravers"; basically it means "magic junkie". And the most interesting part is that most types of magic aren't inherently addictive on their own; it's the _environment_ you work in, and the people you surround yourself with, that can nudge you in that direction. And sometimes, those influences could push a person right over the edge.

In Seattle, I'd very nearly fallen off that edge.

The coven I'd fallen in with had ended up being a not so great influence on me. They hadn't been evil, exactly, but that hadn't had many rules governing their use of magic; they certainly hadn't hesitated to use magic for personal gain. I'd been drawn in by that carefree attitude towards magic; years of being on the run and hiding my magic had left me hungry for a chance to actively practice and not be afraid. And since it had been during a time when our uncle had been engrossed in some other venture, I'd snatched at the opportunity with both hands.

The coven I'd joined had eventually ended up engaging in a fierce competition with another coven, however, and after a massive slaughter that few had walked away from, I'd sworn off magic, and Ezra and I had left Seattle without looking back.

So, yeah. I understood why my brother was worried about me using more magic; I'd already done more lately than I normally allowed myself.

He was worried I might lose myself to that hunger again, and I couldn't say with a hundred percent certainty that he was wrong.

The thought of it worried me more than a little, too.

But no matter how much I wracked my brain, I just couldn't see any other alternative. Ezra could theoretically do a tracking spell, but he was still recovering from his latest round of injuries and we both knew that between the two of us I was stronger magically, even if tracking spells weren't normally my forte. "We need to find Davina," I told my brother. "This is the only way."

I waited patiently as Ezra worked his way through his ever-expanding repertoire of swearwords. "Fine," he bit out once he was done. "If you're sure you can do it."

"Of course I can do it," I said with a scoff. "I'm a Storme."

"Words to die by," Ezra muttered darkly, clearly not feeling as confidently as I did about this course of action.

But there was no turning back now. "We're immortal, sweetie. Death isn't in the cards."

He huffed at me in aggravation, the sound causing my phone's speak to crackle. "Be careful," he told, and then hung up.

 _I will_ , I promised him silently, slipping my phone back into my pocket. I turned to explain my plan to Elijah, only to find him already finished with his own phone call and watching me.

"You have a plan," he said, and it wasn't a question.

"I do," I agreed.

"Your brother doesn't seem to approve," he noted and I realized that he'd probably overheard at least part of our conversation. Damn vampire hearing.

"My brother has a tendency to worry about me," I replied.

"He's not the only one," Elijah murmured, then sighed. "Can you really do a tracking spell to locate Davina?"

"Yes."

He arched a brow at my instant response. "You seem very sure of yourself."

"I'm a Storme," I said again, as if that answered everything. And to me, it sort of did. A Storme doesn't give up, and I was no exception. I was not one to shirk from a challenge. I was also not one to fail at a task once I'd set my mind to it.

Elijah gave me an amused look. "Very well, then. Whenever you're ready, begin the spell."

It took me a moment to gather up my magic and shape the energy how I wanted; I had to re-work the parameters of the spell twice, and then finally managed to wrangle up a satisfactory spell.

In the end, I settled for enchanting one of my daggers to act as temporary dowsing rod of sorts, only instead of honing in on water or gold it tracked the magic supernova that was Davina. It was ironically lucky that she was struggling with the surplus of magical energy; without the bright beacon of the excess power, my hastily MacGyvered tracking spell might not have worked.

As it was, we did manage to track down Davina, and as expected Marcel was with her. The only problem was...someone else had found them first.

We arrived just in time to see Sirena Espina blast Marcel away from Davina with a crackling lightning spell that sent him flying through the air to crash into a parked car.

The rage that rose in me at seeing her was so sudden and swift that I didn't even have time to think before my vision turned crimson with fury and I charged at her with intent to kill.

Since I was rushing in without paying attention, of course, I was very nearly flattened by Sirena's next spell, which flung a small station wagon at me. Only Elijah grabbing me and pulling me out of the way saved me from getting turned into a witch-wolf pancake.

"Thanks," I managed to say, struggling to catch my breath.

"You're welcome," Elijah replied. "Please be more careful."

I rolled my eyes. "When have you ever known me to be careful?"

Elijah shook his head with a sigh, but there was a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Never."

"Exactly. So why start now?" I refocused my attention on Sirena. "Besides," I told Elijah, "that bitch needs to die. If I get a little banged up bringing her down, that's fine by me. It'll be worth it."

The Original looked like he wanted to argue, but another lightning strike had us ducking for cover and abandoning our conversation.

"Better for you just to run," Sirena shouted, her voice loaded with gleeful menace. "Run away now, Zoe Storme, before I suck down this girl's power and wash you away like the stain you are!"

 _Well_ , I thought, _that's poetic imagery_. My reply was more succinct and gritty. "Fuck off and die, bitch!"

The next lightning strike came dangerously close to where I was hiding behind a deserted trolley car.

I considered volleying out a few more insults just to see what she'd do, but ultimately I decided against it; we were crunched for time no matter how you sliced it, so the faster we dealt with Sirena's psycho ass, the better off we'd be. Probably.

Offering a silent apology to my brother for all the magic I was about to use, I stood up and stepped out from behind the trolley, putting myself right in Sirena's line of sight.

She gave an almost-hysterical laugh when she saw me. "What are you doing?" she asked me. "Frightened mice are supposed to cower and hide."

"Pity for you," I told her. "I'm not a mouse." I bared my teeth in a feral smile. "I'm a wolf, bitch. And you're my prey of the day."

Lightning crackled on her fingertips. "Do I look like prey to you?" she demanded.

"Yes," I replied immediately. "Because you're note even using your own damn magic for your little light-show. You think I don't know a Storme lightning spell when I see one?" I challenged. "What did you do, con my uncle into teaching you some of our tricks? Or are you just filching pages from his grimoires?"

Her next shot of lightning came flashing straight at me, and if I had been any other person, it would have blasted a hole straight through my chest and left me smoldering heap on the ground.

But I was no any other person. I was Zoe Storme, last daughter of the Storme and Volkov bloodlines. I was a witch, and a wolf, and I was a whole lot pissed off.

I brought up my hand and deflected her blast, the electricity crackling and dissipating under my will. "You'll have to do better than that," I told Sirena, just the barest hint of contempt curling my lips into sneer, "if you want to take on _me_."

Okay, yes, I was being arrogant. But, seriously. She was using storm magic...against a Storme? For the love of God, what family did she think had created those spells in the first place? Good grief. For someone so deviously intelligent, you'd think she'd know better than to use a brand of magic against me that I'd been familiar with since practically birth.

"Sorry, Sirena," I said, raising my voice to a shout to be heard over the increasing noise of the gusting wind. "But you're going to have to up your game."

She shrieked at me and flung more lightning spells in my direction. "Worthless mongrel," she screamed, her face a mask of fury. "You're nothing but a powerless beast! You're a disgrace to your name!"

My own anger abruptly slammed down on me hard, filling my body with an icy sort of wrath. "What would you know about my name?" I demanded. "I am Zorana Lucille Storme, daughter of Rina Storme and Lucas Volkov. I do _honor_ to my name, and I am _far_ from powerless."

To prove my point, I raised my hands up to the sky and summoned down a lightning strike of my own. Unlike Sirena's attacks, mine wasn't some puny little lightning bolt conjured from thin air. My lightning bolt was summoned from the energy of the atmosphere, channeled in a specific way known only to Storme magicians. I pulled that crackling energy down and wrapped it around myself, and then I formed it with my will and aimed it at Sirena.

She managed to put up a shield at the last minute, so instead of being obliterated she was only sent sailing through the air to crash through a storefront window. Even so, I was savagely pleased with the results of my attack. Before I had a chance to really celebrate, though, suddenly I was hearing the unmistakable crack of a gunshot, and then I was collapsing onto the ground, my knees giving out underneath me as pain blossomed in between my ribs.

I managed to twist as I fell, and it was then I saw Sophie, standing hidden in the shadow of a building across the street, her eyes wide and her hands shaking as she held the gun.

"What the hell?" I gasped, pressing a hand against the gunshot wound. "Sophie? What...?"

"I'm sorry," she stammered, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I have to. I _have_ to. I won't get Monique back without her help. I'm sorry," she added again, as if that made it better.

I let out a slew of blistering curses, then had to stop for breath and clutch at my side because, oh yeah, _I'd been fucking shot_. By a supposed ally, no less.

Elijah appeared at my side between one blink and the next, and the intense look in his eyes made me need to take another moment to remember how to breathe.

"How badly are you hurt?" he asked, voice rough.

"Not bad," I managed to say after a moment. "Nothing that won't heal. You should take cover again," I added almost as an afterthought, because the little tempest Sirena had kicked up with her weather manipulation was starting turn into a full blown hurricane, and I didn't like the idea of Elijah being exposed to both temperamental magic-fueled weather and whatever Sirena -and Sophie- might do next.

"I'm not leaving you to bleed out in the middle of the street," he replied gruffly, and then he was scooping me up into his arms and I was rendered speechless as he used his vampire speed to rush us over to a more secure position.

If someone had come up to me a year previously and told me that I'd be swooning in a vampire's arms after being shot by a desperate witch, I would have laughed them not just out of the room but off the planet.

And yet there we were.

In any case, Elijah set me down gently on the ground behind a small trinket stand that had, through whatever miracle, not been blasted away during the battle.

"Sophie," I grumbled, "is officially on my blacklist."

"She was already on mine," Elijah remarked. "I was willing to let a few of her trespasses slide because of her motivations...but now that she's harmed you, I find that I'm exceptionally inclined to toss her into the ocean while tied to a heavy anchor."

What did it say about me, that I found the fact he'd murder someone for me unspeakably sweet and endearing? I shook my head, not willing to overthink it at the moment. "We need to stop her. Stop _them_ ," I corrected, my mouth twisting into a snarl at the very thought of Sirena. "I can't believe Sophie formed an alliance with psycho Sirena, of all people. I mean, seriously. Of all the rotten luck!"

"You do seem to attract ill fortune," Elijah noted, but his voice held more than a little affection, as if he thought that the fact that me and my twin were walking trouble magnets was amusing rather than horrifying.

I huffed at him in annoyance but didn't debate the point; there wasn't much I could say that would be very convincing, anyway. "What are we going to do to take out Sophie and Sirena?" I asked instead.

"I'm not sure," Elijah admitted. "Sophie I could deal with, but with Sirena backing her up things become much more...uncertain."

I snorted. "That's an understatement," I noted.

He tugged on the ends of my hair in a gesture that felt curiously playful and intimate. "Zoe," he said chidingly. "Be nice."

"Very funny," I replied, rolling my eyes. Then I bolted upright as a massive wave of power rolled through the area. The power had a familiar flavor to it, and I knew at once who it belonged to."Oh, shit. Davina!" I scrambled back to my feet and raced out from our hiding spot to see that the young witch we were all trying to claim was now being held at gunpoint by Sophie, with Sirena smiling like a psychotic Cheshire Cat nearby.

"Let Davina go right now!" I shouted, even as Elijah tried to pull me back to safety. I shrugged him off and sent him a glare that had him sighing and taking up a position to my right, with a look his face like he would have rather had this showdown with the rest of our posse there to back us up.

I couldn't deny that having our siblings there to back us up would have been preferable, but that was out of our control. We had to work with what we had.

Regrettably, what we had was precious little. My magic was running on metaphorical fumes, and Elijah couldn't get too close to the witches without some sort of retaliation.

Add in the fact that Davina's magic was stirring up the already nasty weather into something truly terrible, and it was going to be a really sucky night for everybody. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of a way to turn this into a happy ending. No matter what we did, Davina was going to die by the end of the night.

"Fuck," I muttered, and then charged forward with a dagger in each hand, Elijah hot on my heels.

"Stay back!" Sophie screamed, waving her gun around, but I ignored her, closing with Sirena as bloodlust sang through my veins. I wanted to hurt Sirena, to make her suffer and bleed. Sirena still didn't seem to find me much of a threat, because she just cackled and stabbed at me with a funky curved dagger that glinted a strange green-blue when it caught the light. I didn't doubt that it was an enchanted blade of some sort, so I did my best to avoid getting cut.

Sirena and I went back and forth for a bit, jabbing and swiping and dodging as we weaved around each other in a deadly dance that seemed to have no end. Elijah, meanwhile, was trying to get Davina away from Sophie, but Sophie seemed to have picked up some tricks from Sirena, because she'd thrown up a magical shield to repel him and stop him from getting to close.

I was about to make a more aggressive move, like trying to stab Sirena in between the ribs, when suddenly she surprised me and darted away from our fight. Before I could realize what she had in mind, she was already back at Sophie's side and slicing her dagger across Davina's throat in one quick motion.

"No!" I screamed, but it was too late and there was no going back.

Davina's eyes widened in terror before the light faded from them, and then the magic that had been building up and swirling inside of her all this time rushed out of her, leaving only her body behind.

"The power," Sophie gasped as Davina's body fell to the ground. "As is my right as the last surviving witch of my coven, I claim it. I claim it, and with it I call upon the elders to resurrect our chosen ones."

A long, long silence. The air was eerily still, and it was like the whole universe was holding it breath.

And yet nothing happened.

"I call upon the elders to resurrect our chosen ones," Sophie repeated, looking more desperate with each passing second. "Please..." she whispered brokenly, tears once more spilling down her cheeks as she craned her neck around to look at Sirena. "Why isn't it working?!"

Sirena gave a sly smile and tsked at her. "Aw, honey, did you really think I'd keep my word? How adorable."

I cursed as a look of horrified realization dawned on Sophie's face.

"You lied to me?" Sophie said, her face so pale that it rivaled the pallor of Davina's body.

Sirena sneered at her. "Always the tone of surprise when people finally get it. Morons." She snorted. "If it makes you feel any better at all, it's only because I had a more beneficial arrangement with...another party, shall we say. Her offer was much more promising than yours, little hedgewitch. So yes, I used you to get what I wanted." Her smirk widened. "And now I can give her what she wants, and I'll get what I want. And everyone goes home happy!" she said mockingly, clapping her hands together.

Sophie just stared at her in utter agony. "My niece is dead!" she wailed.

"Not my problem," Sirena replied, totally unsympathetic.

My own grief and frustration welled up in me very suddenly, and very powerfully. The surge of emotion brought with it a surge of power nothing like I'd ever felt before. It rushed through my body so quickly and with such ferocity that I was surprised my body didn't blast apart from the force of it. The intensity of it was so great that it actually distorted my perception as well. One moment I was standing frozen in place, staring at Davina's body in horrified disbelief, the next I was standing in the middle of a massive magical shockwave that was arcing straight towards Sirena.

It slammed into her like a tidal wave crashing onto a deserted shoreline. It crashed into her with titanic force and sent her flying backwards so hard that she disappeared into the night, with only her screams echoing through the cold night air to tell us where she'd been. I could still sense her life energy from wherever the hell she'd ended up after the blast, so I knew she wasn't dead. But the energy was wavering and weak, and that meant she'd been badly injured or at least knocked down a peg or two, and I decided that that would have to be good enough for now.

Because that last blast had used up the last dregs of my energy, and I couldn't have pursued her even if I'd wanted to.

I collapsed to the ground as shadows crowded into my vision, turning everything dark and hazy. My body felt like it was about to crumble away into dust, like the blast I'd unleashed had tapped into a level of power I shouldn't have tried to use. But I hadn't used it, not deliberately; my emotions had brought it to the surface, and the energy had used itself.

Before I could really think about the implications of this, the consequences caught up with me, and everything went black.

My last thought before the darkness swallowed me was the hope that Davina knew I'd tried to save her, even if it hadn't worked.

I hoped she knew how sorry I was.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so last time some pretty heavy stuff happened. Davina died, Zoe did some major magic and blacked out, and...well, pretty much everything fell apart and went to hell. This chapter's going to be the aftermath of all that, and...it'll probably be pretty emotionally taxing so brace yourselves for that. (Or maybe it was just emotionally taxing for me when I was writing it, but I figured I'd give a head's up just in case.) Also, I did something I've never done before, and did the first part of this chapter in...Marcel's perspective, actually. It surprised me, because I've never felt a need to write from his viewpoint before, but with Davina's death and how wrecked he is...well, it just felt right.

**Chapter 52**

" **Grief is the price we pay for love."**

* * *

She was gone.

He'd been trying to protect her, to get her away and keep her safe.

He'd failed. Utterly and completely.

She was gone.

It hadn't been how the Mikaelsons and the Storme twins had anticipated, hadn't gone down like that at all. There hadn't been a nice and tidy ceremony or any sort of order to it at all. Those plans had been shattered to pieces when Sophie had turned on them, siding with some other witch Marcel had never seen before. In the end, though, those differences in execution hadn't mattered, because the ending had been the same. He hadn't been able to stop it, hadn't been able to do anything. Hadn't been able to protect her.

She was gone.

He couldn't stand to stay there with her body, there in the cold empty street with nothing but the icy night air and her corpse for company. Elijah had clearly been devastated by her death, as had Klaus, Ezra, and Rebekah once they'd arrived on the scene, but Marcel hadn't been able to even look at them. It had been their idea from the start, to sacrifice Davina. He couldn't find it in himself to look at them and see the pity and sadness in their eyes that seemed to almost make a mockery of his loss. How could they possibly understand this, understand how he felt as he looked down at her lifeless body and felt his heart crack and shatter into a million pieces.

She was gone.

He couldn't even bring himself to feel the barest stirrings of worry regarding the Storme woman's inexplicable collapse. He knew that he probably should have been at least a little concerned; from Ezra and Elijah's ministrations that seemed to be almost frantic, he could tell this sort of fainting spell was out of the norm and upsetting for the two men huddled around Zoe's unconscious form. But he just couldn't bring himself to feel much of anything at all, just looked away and back down to Davina's body.

She was...gone.

The pain of it hit him like a ten ton sledgehammer, almost driving him to his knees. But he wouldn't fall here, wouldn't show this weakness here in the middle of the street. So he summoned up what strength he had left at his disposal and used his enhanced speed to get himself back to safe territory.

Whereupon he threw a massive fit and totally trashed the place. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to replace the furnishings scattered around the Abattoir courtyard. Besides, he didn't gave a damn anymore. The whole world could have imploded right that very second, and he honestly wouldn't have cared.

Because she was gone.

He had just flung several tables and chairs around with furious abandon when he sensed someone approaching.

"That won't bring her back you know," Klaus said softly.

Marcel whirled on him, the agonizing grief in his chest sharpening into something that felt an awful lot like a hot, wrathful rage. "This is _your_ fault!" he snapped. "I should never have let you anywhere _near_ her."

"Marcel," Klaus began, but Marcel wasn't in the mood to listen to anything his sire had to say.

"This city was fine before you came," Marcel continued, talking right over whatever Klaus had been about to say. "We were fine! Davina was _safe_. She was in control!"

"My condolences the girl is gone," Klaus said, "but don't lose perspective. We still have our community. The vampires of this town-"

"I don't _care_ about the vampires!" Marcel shouted, the agony in his chest rising to a painful crescendo. "She is _dead_! Do you hear me?!"

Klaus sped over to him so quickly that Marcel flinched out of reflex, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Then the Original hybrid did something that truly shocked him to the core, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," Klaus murmured, holding him close in a hug that Marcel hadn't realized he'd needed.

But he did need it, and so he clung to Klaus as his sobs continued to wrack his body. And Klaus held him, and kept speaking in that soft, gentle tone that he'd heard from Klaus only a handful of times in the past. "You may think I know nothing of your grief," Klaus was saying, "but you are wrong." He pulled back enough to look Marcel in the eye without letting him go completely. "In the days after I fled this city, I thought you were dead. It was years before I could speak your name," he admitted, "so keenly did I feel that loss. I'm sorry," he said again, his voice barely a murmur as Marcel caved and lurched forward, pressing his face into Klaus's shoulder as he let his grief swamp him and wash him away.

Klaus just embraced him, holding him as he felt apart. "I'm sorry," Klaus whispered one last time.

* * *

I woke up with a pounding headache and the distinct feeling of having been run over by a rampaging stampede of wild stallions. And possibly a buffalo or two. I struggled to sit up, only to discover that my muscles weren't responding quite the way I wanted. I couldn't seem to do much more than flop around a bit, and even just that much was unbelievably exhausting.

After a few seconds of trying and failing to move more than a couple inches in any direction, I took a moment to assess my surroundings.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered Elijah by my bedside, his head resting on his chest as if he'd dozed off while sitting there. Peering at him more closely, I could see the deep shadows under his eyes, and I wondered how long he'd been sitting there.

Once I'd come to terms with how adorable he looked sitting there snoozing, I looked around and realized that we were back at the Abattoir. Not surprising, really, it was more or less our base of operations now, but I couldn't help but wonder how long I'd been out this time. How much time had I lost, between passing out after that fight and now? A glance out the window told me that the sun was just starting to rise, but that wasn't a huge help, either. Sunrise of what day, exactly? I hated to think I'd lost multiple days again, but the amount of power that had rushed through my body had been immense, and that sort of power always comes with a price. Usually a steep one in the end.

I let myself drift back to sleep, since I didn't really want to think about the consequences of my actions and how long I'd been unconscious. Besides, it wasn't like I was going to be getting out of bed, not feeling like roadkill the way I did. So I went back to sleep.

When I woke up again, I was feeling a little bit better and it was midday, and Elijah was awake and talking with Ezra, who'd pulled up another chair at my bedside. My twin, of course, noticed my return to the land of the living almost immediately.

"Hey," he exclaimed happily. "There she is. We were wondering when you were planning to wake up, sleepyhead."

"Ha ha, very funny," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

Ezra just gave me that smile, the one that said so much without words. The one that told me how much I'd scared him again, how relieved he was to see me awake.

"It is a relief to see you back with us," Elijah remarked, and though his tone was light, I could see the faint worry lines around the corners of his mouth that told me that he really _had_ been concerned about me.

A strange warmth filled my chest and I gave a little smile. "It's good to be back," I said. But then my smile dropped away as I remembered that one of our number had been taken from us and _hadn't_ come back to the land of the living. "Davina..." I murmured, and felt the corners of my eyes prick with unshed tears.

My companions' faces fell as well, smiles turning into frowns and downcast eyes.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Ezra said, breaking the silence first. "Maybe if I'd-"

"Don't," I told him, reaching out a shaky arm to clasp his hand in mine. "Don't do that, Ez. There's nothing you could have done, even if you'd been there."

"Davina was going to die regardless of what any of us did," Elijah agreed, regret darkening his eyes. "Your presence wouldn't have changed that inevitability."

"Still..." Ezra sighed. "If I'd been there, I could have distracted Sirena. Then maybe she would have been too preoccupied to steal away the Harvest magic that should have brought Davina back."

"Since that preoccupation would have involved her ripping you to shreds," Klaus said as he entered the room and came to stand just behind where Elijah and Ezra were seated, "I think it's better that you _weren't_ there."

"Amen to that," Rebekah pitched in as she followed into the room after her half-brother. "Seeing you torn up like that once is more than enough. Let's not risk a second round, okay?"

Ezra just shook his head. "But if it could have helped-"

Klaus reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "It wouldn't have. It would have just cost us more."

Ezra had a look on his face like he wanted to argue it further, but then he just sighed and slumped forward, burying his face in his hands. "I just can't believe there was nothing we could do," he mumbled dejectedly.

Rebekah bit her lip, then stepped forward to pull up a chair beside my brother. She fussed with the hem of her skirt a bit as she sat down, and then reached out and threaded her fingers through Ezra's with a shaky smile. "We'll get through this," she told him.

Ezra sighed again, but managed a faint smile in return. "If you say so."

Klaus and I both watched this little exchange with narrowed eyes and contemplative expressions. Before either of us could comment on it, however, Hayley appeared in the doorway.

"Oh," she said when she saw me sitting up. "You're awake. That's...good."

I pursed my lips a little because the way she said it made it sound decidedly _not_ good, like maybe she'd have preferred me to stay down and out for a while. I wasn't in the mood to call her out on it right now, though, so all I said was "I am."

"Oh," she said again, then cleared her throat. "Elijah," she said uncertainly. "Can we...talk?"

"Perhaps later," he replied, not even looking around to meet her eyes.

An aggravated expression crossed the werewolf's face. "How about now?" she demanded. "Or are you just never going to forgive me for helping Sophie find Celeste's body?"

Elijah said nothing, but his jaw was clenched so tightly I wouldn't have been surprised if he cracked a tooth.

"This isn't the time for this," I said, not wanting to step into the middle of this but also unable to keep my opinion to myself.

"Who asked you?" Hayley snapped. "This is between me and Elijah."

Oooookay...that was totally not the right thing to say to someone with my temperament. "I beg your pardon?" I hissed. "This isn't all about _you_ , Hayley. Davina just died, for crying out loud, show a little sensitivity!" I growled when she looked about to argue. "No, shut up. Whatever you have to say can wait." I turned away from her to look at my brother. "Where's Marcel?" I asked. "Is he...okay?"

Ezra looked at me carefully, as if unsure what to think my little scolding to Hayley. "He's making arrangements for...for the funeral," he said at last, glancing back over his shoulder at Klaus. "As for being okay..."

"He's definitely not," Klaus finished for him. "Last I saw, he was getting very cozy with a bottle of high-proof liquor. Understandable, of course, and I can't blame him for struggling right now." He rubbed his face tiredly. "It will be quite some time before Marcellus recovers from this, if ever."

I just nodded, because what could I say? Marcel had obviously loved Davina. He'd saved her from the witches and kept her safe for all those months...only to have her brutally slaughtered in spite of his best efforts.

I resolved to be nicer to Marcel in the future. He'd need as much support as possible after losing his ward like that.

"I hate to move on to business when we're all in mourning," Rebekah said hesitantly. "But we need to find out...what does Sirena have to do with all of this? I mean, I know Sophie made a deal with her, but...what's her endgame? Why join up with the New Orleans coven when she's working with your uncle?" she asked, looking over at me and Ezra. "Why would she do something like that? And who was this other person she said she made a deal with before Sophie?"

"What concerns _me_ ," Klaus said, "is where all that power went. The magic gathered from the Harvest was supposed to resurrect those four girls. But obviously it didn't. So...where did all that power go? Who has it now?"

"Not Sirena," I said after a moment of thought. "I wouldn't have been able to blast her away like I did at the end if she'd absorbed all that power for herself."

"So she was taking it and channeling it to someone else," Ezra concluded.

"But who could it possibly be?" Rebekah asked, sounding frustrated. "Who else out there is after us like this?"

"Could it be your uncle?" Elijah asked. "You mentioned he had relocated from his previous location. Could this be his doing?"

"Evans said he'd come down to Baton Rouge from Cheyenne," I admitted, "but I don't think this is him. Sirena said _her_ when she spoke about this other person. My uncle is many things, but transgender isn't one of them. Besides, if he was in town, he wouldn't waste time playing games like this."

"True," Ezra agreed. "He'd just blast in, grab me and Zoe, then blast out again."

We all lapsed into thoughtful silence as we contemplated the possibilities. Eventually, Hayley spoke again.

"Did we ever find out why Davina was drawing those pictures of Celeste?" she asked. "I mean, she said they were visions of an evil that was after her, right? So, maybe..."

"But that isn't possible," Elijah countered, cutting Hayley off before she could even finish her sentence. "Celeste is dead. We saw her remains with our own eyes."

"Maybe she hitched a ride back from the spirit world and took over someone else's body?" I suggested. "I mean, it would be hard for her, but not impossible, especially if she had some sort of strong motivation."

"Not possible," Elijah repeated, shaking his head. "She would have no reason to come back and do these things."

I bit my tongue, and refrained from pointing out the fact that his brother's indiscretions had led to Celeste getting murdered by an angry mob, and that that was plenty of motivation for revenge; I had a feeling he wouldn't want to hear that right then, so I remained silent.

We were interrupted by the arrival of Klaus's bartender friend Camille, who came in looking like she'd just spent the last couple hours crying her eyes out. "Sorry to barge in on whatever powwow you're having here," she said, voice rough, "but my uncle just called." She glanced over at Klaus. "He says some members of the Faction discovered a couple dead vampires, over at the Cauldron?"

"Ours?" Elijah asked, looking over to his brother for confirmation.

"How the bloody hell should I know?" Klaus said in exasperation. "I can hardly be expected to remember of single face lurking around the city."

"Some king you are," Ezra grumbled.

Klaus whapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Watch it," he said warningly, but there was no real menace in his tone, only annoyance and amusement.

"Marcel would know if anyone's missing," Rebekah interjected. "We should ask him to come with us to help investigate."

"I have a feeling he'd rather be left alone," Elijah observed. "Maybe we should just give him some time."

"Nonsense," Klaus answered. "He can't sit around sulking for the rest of eternity. Here," he added, nudging Ezra with his elbow, "come help me roust him and let's be off."

Ezra gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes but obeyed, squeezing Rebekah's hand one last time before releasing her and following Klaus out the door and down the hall, presumably to find Marcel.

I watched them go, then leaned back against my pillows with a sigh of exhaustion.

"Still tired?" Rebekah said, looking at me in concern.

"A little," I admitted.

"Well, that's not surprising," Elijah remarked. "You did use a tremendous amount of power during that fight. It might take you some time to recover your full strength." A little mischievous smile quirked his lips. " _Zorana._ "

I groaned and pulled up a pillow to cover my face. "Oh my God," I moaned. "I can't believe I shouted that for the whole world to hear.

"What's going on now?" Rebekah asked, clearly puzzled.

"Zorana Lucille Storme," Elijah said, taking his time sounding it out, as if he were savoring the feel of my name on his tongue.

I just groaned again. "Please, _please_ stop."

"Oh." Rebekah's eyes lit up. "Oh! Is that your full name?"

I threw my pillow at her. "Yes," I grumbled. "And if you call me by it I will hex you eight ways to Sunday."

"Why?" Elijah asked, chuckling as Rebekah pounced on me and lightly walloped me with the pillow I'd tossed at her. "It's a lovely name. Slavic, isn't it?"

"Yes," I huffed. "It was my paternal grandmother's name. It means 'dawn'."

"It's lovely," Elijah repeated.

"Mmm," was my only response.

It's not that I didn't like my birth name, mind you. Truth be told, I loved it. It's just...different. Growing up and going to school with a name like Zorana had gotten me a lot of funny looks, until eventually I'd just started going by my nickname, Zoe. It was easier for people to pronounce, and I didn't have to put up with the whole slew of questions like _What's that mean?_ or _What country is that from?._ Because explaining that it was my father's mother's name and that we were descended from a clan of revered Russian werewolves was _way_ too troublesome to do with any great frequency. So I'd taken to just introducing myself as Zoe and that had been that.

When Elijah said it, though...well, I kind of liked how my full name sounded coming out of his lips.  
  
Not that I was going to _admit_ that to anyone, though. It was just a little secret I'd keep to myself.  
  
When Elijah repeated my full name again, though, with that sparkle in his eyes that indicated that he was doing it just to rile me, I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I didn't want the entire chapter to be doom and gloom depression so that little softer moment at the end sort of snuck itself in. Also, I've had Zoe's full birth name just sitting around all this time and had never found a good place to fit it in, so I figured the previous chapter and this one would be an okay time to bring it up. I hope it didn't seem totally random and out of nowhere. :)
> 
> Anyway, how's everyone feeling about the story so far? Did I do that scene between Marcel and Klaus okay? It sort of wrote itself, if you know what I mean, and I hope I captured the feel of it. It's an important moment for both Marcel and Klaus, so I hope it came through okay. Also, how's everyone liking how the Mikaelsons and Stormes are gradually merging into one family? It's fairly understated right now, but I'm trying to put in little moments here and there that show how both groups of siblings are sort of just coming together; it's just little things, really, like how Rebekah and Zoe have that little pillow fight, or how Klaus bops Ezra on the head and Ezra doesn't flip his shit. You know, family stuff. XD Also, having everyone come together in Zoe's room reminds me almost of those times in a person's life where a family member is ill and everyone just shows up for support. Am I making any sense? Probably not, huh? Oh well, you guys let me know who you feel about it, okay? I love to hear your feedback, so drop me a review if you've got a second or two to spare. :)


	53. Chapter 53

**"Never give up on someone you can't go a day without thinking about. "**

* * *

Barely ten minutes after leaving the Abattoir, Ezra was already starting to question the wisdom of dragging Marcel along as he and Klaus investigated the to mysterious vampire deaths.

Marcel was, for one thing, in a spectacularly shitty mood, even by Ezra's standards. It was understandable, of course, and Ezra was willing to cut him some slack given the circumstances. Someone he'd cared for deeply had died in a terrible and awful way, and he was in agony from the loss.

Ezra understood that. He did.

But did Marcel really have to be _such_ an asshole about it?

Okay, so maybe Ezra was inclined to be a little more prickly because it was Marcel, and he didn't like Marcel much just in general. But he was willing to put his own issues aside for the moment, given the givens.

But when they arrived at the scene twenty minutes later and discovered the two dead daywalkers, all Marcel did was look at their corpses blankly before turning right around and walking away. Ezra and Klaus had stopped him and tried to talk him out of bailing, but after a small, heated debate, Marcel had washed his hands of the whole mess, declaring that he didn't care about "vampire hijinks" anymore. And then he'd disappeared without a backward glance, leaving Ezra fuming and Klaus both aggravated at Marcel's behavior and resigned over how there was nothing to be done about it.

They both gave massive sighs, and then returned to the bodies of the dead vampires. Ezra, noticing something that piqued his interest, knelt down to inspect the body. Tilting the head of one of the daywalkers to the side slightly, he noticed a peculiar symbol carved into the side of the dead vampire's neck. It seemed vaguely familiar to him somehow, and not in a good way.

Frowning, he snapped a picture of it with his phone and forwarded it to Zoe, then waved Klaus over for a second opinion. "You ever seen anything like this before?" he asked.

Klaus leaned over and inspected the symbol. "No," he said after a moment, "it's not anything I'm familiar with." There was something a little off in his tone, though, like maybe he wasn't entirely sure.

"Huh." Ezra released his grip on the dead daywalker's chin and the lifeless head lolled to the side. "Me neither."

* * *

Rebekah made sure that Zoe was resting comfortably, then quietly slipped out of her friend's room, striding down the hallway and heading for Marcel's room.

Once there, she was stunned to see him sharing a bottle of bourbon with Thierry.

"I thought you were bricked up to starve down in the Garden?" she asked him.

He shot her a dark glare. "Yeah, because of some bullshit your brother pulled," he said in a surly tone. "Tell him thanks for me, will you?"

"I decided to let Thierry out of the Garden," Marcel added, taking a long pull form the bottle of bourbon. "I shouldn't have put him down there in the first place, and after some thinking I realized that he's the only one who's ever _really_ had my back."

Rebekah flinched ever so slightly at the cutting edge in his voice, but covered it by crossing her arms. "So this is how you've decided to spend your time? Drinking the day away with your bestie, when Ezra and Klaus need your help with solving those murders?"

Marcel snorted. "I'm sure they can manage without me."

"You should go help them," she told him sternly. "The daywalkers who died are _your people_ , Marcel."

"Technically," he replied, "they're Klaus's people now. He did take over, or did you somehow miss that from where you were hiding in the shadows?"

She bristled. "Excuse me, I was standing right there beside you, you selfish wanker."

He arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, and you told me to surrender to Klaus. Little late to be complaining about it now, Bekah. What's done is done. Now, if you don't mind, I have some catching up to do with an old friend." He poured Thierry another drink and glanced pointedly at the door behind Rebekah.

She huffed at him in frustration, but didn't bother trying to argue the issue any further. She knew him well enough to know when he was in a stubborn mood; however much she disliked it, he wasn't going to budge and go help Ezra and her brother investigate. So she just gave him one last glare before whirling around and storming from the room, making sure to slam the door _very_ hard behind her.

She was just on her way back to Zoe's room when her phone went off. Frowning, she pulled it out and answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Mikaelson," an unfamiliar voice said in greeting. "How are you today?"

"Wondering who the hell this is," she replied, letting her annoyance creep into her voice. "You have thirty seconds, and then I'm hanging up."

"You'll be receiving a text message in a moment," the person on the other end told her. "It will be an address. You will go to that address, and you will go there _alone_."

"And why exactly would I do that?" she demanded.

"Because if you don't, your two little friends are going to meet a rather...unfortunate end. It would be such a pity, too; the one with a baby on the way and the blonde with such a bright future ahead of her. Don't worry," he added, "we're simply observing them for now. But it would be _such_ a shame if anything were to happen to them because of your stubbornness."

Rebekah barely bit back a curse as she recalled that Cami and Hayley had gone out for the afternoon to do some maternity shopping for Hayley; she wanted to kick herself for letting them leave without a proper escort.

"And don't even think about contacting either of your brothers," the stranger said warningly. "We have people monitoring all of you, and we'll know if you do anything other than exactly what we tell you."

"Fine," she said curtly as her phone vibrated to tell her that there was a new text message. "I'll be there shortly."

* * *

Ezra was trailing after Klaus as the Original hybrid went inside another local business to question those inside about whether or not they'd witnessed anything useful that he and Klaus could use to figure out who had killed those two daywalkers and why. He hadn't heard back from Zoe yet about the symbol, so that was a dead end for the moment. He would have been annoyed, but he knew that his twin had more than likely fallen back asleep, and he was actually relieved that she was resting for a change.

They were just about to enter a small Postal Annex-type place when a sudden wave of nausea washed over him, making him gag and stumble to a halt, his vision going blurry at the edges.

Klaus continued on for several steps, but after noticing that Ezra wasn't with him anymore, doubled back with an annoyed scowl. "What's the hold up?" he asked, but then his scowl morphed into a slightly less severe frown as he took in Ezra's sickly appearance. "Now what's wrong with you?"

"I have no idea," Ezra told him, voice shaking. "I just feel really sick all of a sudden." And terribly, terribly weak, like someone had drained all the energy from his body. He took a deep breath and tried to assess his condition, but couldn't pinpoint the cause of his sudden sickness; physically, he was fine. Not in peak condition since he was still bouncing back from Sirena's torture games, but nothing was seriously wrong with him.

He was about to dive down into his inner headspace and question his wolf about what exactly was going on, but then the nausea peaked and shattered his concentration, driving him to his knees as he gagged again and struggled for air.

_What the hell is going on?_

* * *

Rebekah tried to scream but couldn't. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't even make the tiniest noise. She also couldn't move, couldn't manage even the slightest twitch.

When she'd arrived at the address she'd been given, she hadn't expected to face any sort of significant challenge. She certainly hadn't expected to encounter Alphonz Bellatunde Delgallo, especially since he'd been dead for many, many years.

And she would never have in a million years expected him to trap her in a magical containment circle and suck away her power with some sort of blasted energy-leeching spell.

As her power and life energy was pulled out of her body and into Papa Tunde, she felt herself growing weaker, almost unbearably so. As the spell went on and on and she continued to grow weaker and weaker she had no doubt that if she weren't a true immortal, she would have already died.

As the spell kept going with a sense of endlessness, she really began to wonder if she might not perish anyway.

* * *

Ezra, still queasy but somehow ambulatory, wasted no time in bolting up to his room and grabbing his grimoire from his bag the second they returned to the Abattoir. He flipped through it frantically until he found the entry he was looking for. A amalgamation of spells and hexes he'd seen or encountered over the years, his grimoire was more of a witchcraft scrapbook than a true grimoire, but in a situation like the one he was in right then, that was more of a good thing than a bad one, especially since it meant that he had an entry on a series of spells that he himself wouldn't use, but needed to know about just in case.

When he realized that the symbol he and Klaus had seen on the bodies was used in rituals for sacrificial magic, his heart started beating double-time in his chest. Sacrificial magic wasn't exceedingly rare anymore, but it took a certain caliber of warlock to pull it off with any great success. There were only a handful of warlocks in the country capable of doing strong sacrificial magic.

Several of the more notorious ones were already long dead. One of the ones still among the living was dear old Uncle Reginald.

 _That_ thought nearly had him hyperventilating, but then he reminded himself that if Reginald were in New Orleans, he or Zoe would have already sensed him, would have picked up the taste of his power from miles away.

So. It wasn't Reginald.

But if not their uncle, then who?

Who had enough power to pull off sacrificial magic like that?

And why the hell was he still so goddamned nauseous?!

Angry and sick, he hauled himself downstairs and all but threw the grimoire at Klaus.

The hybrid caught it easily and arched an eyebrow at him.

"I figured out what the symbol means," Ezra told him.

"So did we," Klaus replied, nodding at Elijah, who was leaning against the edge of a nearby table.

"The symbol the two of you found on those bodies is nearly identical to a symbol similarly used by someone who once stood against our family," Elijah explained. "Long ago, the last time we were in New Orleans. Clearly," he added, "some upstart witch is salvaging old tricks."

"Okay, but then why am _I_ feeling sick?" Ezra asked. "I haven't run into anyone who could have put this hex on me."

"Are you sure about that?" Elijah asked. "It's not possible someone could have laid the spell upon you without your notice?"

Ezra gave him a scathing look. "For your sake, I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that." He shook his head. "Trust me, no one could do any sort of magic on me without me realizing it. I'm not Zoe, but I'm not a lightweight, either. I've got several layers of protection magic on me to prevent exactly this sort of thing," he added. "Our uncle's pretty fond of sacrificial magic and power transference spells, too, so my sister and I both have precautions in place, just in case."

"So why _are_ you sick then?" Klaus asked. "If you're not the target of such a spell, there's no reason for you to be feeling any sort of effect from it. You couldn't possibly have caught it from those bodies earlier; it's not like the magic is contagious."

"That's true," Ezra admitted. "The only reason I would be impacted from someone else being drained would be if..."

If he was linked to them somehow.

Like his bond with Zoe.

Panicked again, he sought out that bond with his twin, that soul-deep connection that bound them together as blood and pack. To his immense relief, there didn't seem to be anything amiss with his twin; as far as he could tell, she was still asleep, but it was normal, healthy sleep. There was no flavor of dark magic to her energy, no indication that her power was being leeched away.

He withdrew from their bond feeling both relieved and baffled.

Relieved, because his sister was fine.

Baffled, because if it wasn't his sister who was being affected by the power-sucking spell, whose suffering was he sensing?

Who the hell else could he possibly be bonded to?


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts out with Zoe and then goes back and forth between her and Ezra for a bit, because Ezra's viewpoint is needed for some crucial parts of this chapter. Also, because Rebekah has been stolen away by Papa Tunde and we need to see Ezra's reaction to that from his own viewpoint. Some of the parts in his perspective might be slightly confusing, just because there's some stuff going on between him and his wolf half that reads almost like a personality/identity disorder; I know it's a little confusing, but it's deliberate. Sort of. XD

**Chapter 54**

" **The sun loved the moon so much that he died to let her breathe."**

* * *

I woke up feeling like a completely new person; it was amazing how beneficial several hours of uninterrupted sleep could be for a person.

As I got out of bed, though, I couldn't help but notice a feeling of tension hovering the air.

 _Oh, great_ , I thought. _Now what's going on?_

I slipped into some jeans and a Celtic Woman t-shirt, tugged on my boots, then went downstairs. I found my brother in the courtyard with Klaus and Elijah, the three of them poring over an assortment of books that were strew across a folding table that someone had set up.

"Uh, hi guys," I said with a little wave. "What's up with the study group?"

Ezra was across the room in an instant, pulling me close and wrapping me in a tight hug. "You have no idea how relieved I am that you're awake."

"Okay," I said slowly. "Thanks, I guess. But I was just napping. Not really surprising that I'd wake up eventually."

"Well," Elijah remarked, "with someone running about doing magic that sucks away life energy, I think it's not unreasonable to have been concerned."

It took me a moment to process that. And even after turning his statement over in my mind, I was still at a loss. "Wait, what?"

"Klaus and I went to investigate the deaths of those two daywalkers," Ezra began, and I nodded because I remembered them leaving not long before I'd drifted off to sleep again. "When we got there," he continued, "we found this symbol carved onto the bodies." He handed me a scrap of paper that had been wedged between two books.

I peered intently at the little doodle on the paper, trying to place it. It took me longer than I would have liked, but eventually I realized what it was, what it represented. "Sacrificial magic?" I frowned. "But who has enough skill to pull off something like this?" Our uncle had a knack for this type of magic, but I was certain that he wasn't in town. Not yet, anyway.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Klaus replied, tossing aside one book and picking up another. "So far," he added irritably, "we're not having much luck."

Well, okay then. Deciding to make myself useful, I started to head over and reach for a book to help in the search, then paused and slanted another look at my brother.

I hadn't realized it immediately, preoccupied as I'd been with trying to understand what was going on, but after looking at Ezra more closely...well, it was obvious that he wasn't doing so good. He was paler than normal, with shadows beginning to form under his eyes.

"Oh my God," I blurted, panic blooming in my chest. "Did someone hit you with a power-sucking spell?!"

My twin gave me an insulted look. "Z, seriously?"

I flushed in embarrassment; I knew my brother had protection spells in place against such things, and even if he didn't, such a spell wouldn't have affected him like that. He was a powerful Wiccan practitioner and by no means a pushover. But in my worry, I'd somehow forgotten that my brother was a bad-ass.

"Well, can you blame me for jumping to conclusions?" I demanded defensively, putting my hands on my hips. "I wake up to find the three of you freaking out over some sort of sacrificial power-sucking spell, and you, my beloved brother, just so happen to look like shit at the same time? What the hell else am I supposed to think?"

"Fair point," my brother conceded grudgingly. "But no, it's not me."

"At least not exactly," Klaus tacked on.

My frown deepened in puzzlement. "What do you mean, not exactly? Either he's the target of the spell or he's not; there's not a lot of in between here, Klaus."

Ezra shifted uncomfortably. "Well, uh...that's sort of the thing," he said uncertainly. "I seem to be affected by one of these spells, but not directly."

I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off the headache I felt building. "Okay," I told them, "you guys have lost me. How can Ezra be affected by a spell that has nothing to do with him?"

"The same way I'd be affected if something like this happened to you," Ezra told me quietly.

I scowled at him, then felt all the color drain from my face as the pieces clicked into place. "A bond," I realized. "You've got a connection to whoever is being victimized by this spell."

"Looks that way, yeah."

Which left the question of who on earth Ezra was close enough with to form that sort of bond. If forced to guess, I would have said Klaus, since he and my brother had formed some sort of odd bromance-y friendship since we'd come here, but the Original hybrid was clearly not the victim of a power-leeching spell; he was just the same as always. I was about to ask my brother who _he_ thought it was when Camille and Hayley finally returned, their arms overflowing with shopping bags.

"Sorry we're late," Hayley said by way of greeting. "Rebekah was supposed to pick us up after lunch, but she never showed up. I don't suppose you guys know where she is?"

Oh.

_**Oh.** _

Well, crap.

* * *

Ezra's entire world came grinding to a painful halt.

 _Rebekah was supposed to pick us up after lunch_ , Hayley had said.

_But she never showed up._

His inner wolf rose up suddenly and powerfully, letting loose a mournful howl that echoed in his mind so loudly it was surprising he didn't black out from the force of it. He tried to force his wolf back down, feed it reassurances that everything was fine, tell it that there was nothing to worry about at all, but for once his wolf didn't let Ezra push that side of himself away into the back of his consciousness. His wolf pushed back, making it very clear that any efforts to ignore it would be futile.

Ezra didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, he didn't _feel_ like he was about to lose control and go on a massive killing spree. On the other hand, his wolf was very decidedly not happy, and not being able to subdue that side of himself left him dangerously at risk for a loss of control.

_She never showed up._

Something about those four simple words had snapped something inside of him, setting loose a side of his wolf that Ezra had never experienced before. A fierce territorial protectiveness. In some small ways, it was almost similar to his feelings towards Zoe; a need to nurture, a need to keep her safe. But this feeling now was so much more, so much _deeper_ than anything he'd ever felt before. It was there in every beat of his heart, in every breath he took into his lungs.

And it was centered entirely on Rebekah.

_She never showed up._

Now that he knew it was her, that she was the one on the other end of that connection, it made the weakness he felt almost unbearable. Because the weakness he was feeling was _hers_. The helplessness coursing through him was how _Rebekah_ was feeling, right that very moment.

Rebekah, beautiful and bold and courageous.

Helpless.

His wolf gave a menacing snarl, and Ezra didn't try to hush him. He agreed with the sentiment behind the snarl wholeheartedly. He didn't understand why he was bonded to Rebekah, didn't want to examine that connection too closely for fear of what it might really mean, but one thing he knew for certain was that Rebekah Mikaelson was far too magnificent to be the victim of some two-bit warlock trying to build their power.

So he took a deep breath and did something he'd resolved to never try again.

He closed his eyes and let his wolf lead the way.

* * *

I knew the second my brother ceded control to his wolf. I saw it in the way his posture changed, and in the way his scent changed ever so slightly; going from Ezra's normal scent to something darker, more predatory. The change became glaringly obvious when my brother opened his eyes and instead of forest green or gold, brilliant wolf blue irises shined out at me.

"Hello, wolf-brother," I said, using a nickname I had given to his wolf after I'd realized the severity of the separation between my brother's two soul-halves. It might have seemed silly, calling my brother by a different name when his wolf was in control, but I couldn't help it. Ezra wasn't entirely Ezra when his wolf was running the show. Wolf-Ezra was different. He wouldn't speak much, if at all. And he operated almost entirely on instinct. He looked at things the way a predator would, splitting people up into two simple groups: potential threats and potential prey. There was a third, more elusive group, for those he considered pack. I was pack. And, as I stood there and watched as wolf-Ezra inspected Klaus and Elijah with that cold wolf gaze and didn't attack, I realized that somehow the Mikaelsons had come to be qualified as pack, too.

Thank goodness for small miracles. A brawl between wolf-Ezra and the two Original brothers would have been massively bloody. Not to mention a waste of time when what we needed to be doing was finding Rebekah.

It hit me, all of a sudden, why Ezra had relinquished control of his body to his wolf-half.

Ezra was bonded to Rebekah. I didn't doubt that, even if I didn't understand how it had happened; his reaction to the spell and his sudden panic had erased any lingering doubts. By relinquishing control, Ezra was allowing his wolf to use that connection, that pack bond, to track down Rebekah. Ezra could have probably found a way to do it without ceding control to the wolf, but it would have taken longer. And any time lost meant that Rebekah was suffering more. So out of his worry for Rebekah, he'd done the one thing he hated most.

He'd given up control.

As wolf-Ezra shifted form from human to a great big hulking timber wolf and loped out the door, I desperately hoped that our latest rescue mission wouldn't end in disaster.

* * *

Ezra, despite relinquishing control of his physical body to his wolfside, found himself in more of a partnership with his other half than he'd expected. His wolf could have chosen to shunt him to the side, like Ezra had done to him so many times in the past. But there was no resentment from his wolf, just a strong burning need to get to Rebekah _right now_ and make sure that she was safe. And his wolf knew that there were things Ezra could understand, just as Ezra understood that his wolf could do things that he in his normal state could not.

So he'd let his wolf change their shape, transitioning into his true wolf form so as to track her better and with greater speed. He was distantly aware of his sister and the other two Mikaelsons following after him, with Klaus peppering Zoe with questions about Ezra's sudden switch in demeanor.

He heard Zoe give answers the best she could, and he heard Klaus snap something at her when he didn't like her explanations. Before meeting the Mikaelsons, Ezra and his wolf would have turned right back around and taken a chunk of the other man for daring to take that tone with his sister. But Zoe could give as good as she got, and Klaus was his friend, his packmate. Besides, he knew that sarcasm and biting remarks were a language that both Zoe and Klaus spoke fluently and skillfully, and that getting in between one of their little spats was both pointless and unnecessary; they'd work it out themselves, somehow.

As they hurried down the street and into the docks area, Klaus and Zoe finally cut off their bickering after a stern reprimand from Elijah. Ezra would have thanked the eldest Original brother, but his wolf was too busy racing forward, paws pounding against the cold ground as they approached a series of warehouses along the waterfront.

They finally reached the warehouse where he could sense Rebekah, and for a moment he considered shifting back to human form. In the end, he decided against it. He was stronger in this shape, with claws and fangs.

And he wanted to use those claws and fangs to tear apart whoever had taken Rebekah and hurt her.

* * *

I was not thrilled when we reached the warehouse and my brother wouldn't shift back. It's not that I didn't trust whatever balance he'd struck with his wolfside, but he'd been straddling a very fine line all this time, and I was worried that this voluntary surrender of control might have lasting consequences.

Still, I decided to deal with those problems as they happened and focus on the moment. Namely, busting into that warehouse and busting Rebekah out.

We broke in to discover Rebekah trapped in a circle of salt, looking about ten times worse than what I had expected. Her body was shriveled and desiccated like a mummy, as if someone had taken Rebekah Mikaelson and sucked everything out of her. Blood, water, breath. Life.

And imagine our additional surprise when we saw Marcel and his buddy Thierry there as well. Except they clearly weren't on the same team as the dark-skinned man wielding a knife; no, Thierry was laying sprawled on the cold floor with metal spikes pounded into his body to keep him in place, while Marcel himself was pinned by the warlock, who seemed to have been in the process of carving a symbol onto the former king's forehead when we'd barged in.

Instead of looking startled or alarmed by our sudden arrival, the man only smiled. "You're early," he said to us. Then his dark gaze fixed on Klaus. "But still in time to see me destroy one of the few people you've ever given a damn about." He pressed the knife deeper into Marcel's skin, and his grin widened as Marcel let out a shout of pain, his breathing labored.

"Get away from him right now," Klaus told the other man, his tone turning deadly as recognition lit his eyes. "Or I'll give you a second death that will make your first look downright merciful."

Papa Tunde just kept on smiling. "And why should I do that? The deaths of my sons must be avenged. What better way than to destroy the one _you_ consider a son?"

Ezra, with his eyes gold rather than wolf blue, indicating that my brother was back in complete control of himself, charged forward with a snarl. While Klaus and I had been approaching Papa Tunde, my brother in his wolf form had accompanied Elijah to try and reach Rebekah. Out of the corner of my eye, I'd seen them unable to breach the circle of salt surrounding her; some sort of boundary spell, no doubt. My brother, apparently, had taken issue with that and was going to take it up with the guy responsible.

I expected it to be over quickly. I knew my brother's capabilities in wolf form well, and getting tackled by him is like getting flattened by a Mack truck. And on top of that, he was fast. There was no way Papa Tunde should have been able to dodge, much less survive the hit.

But faster than I could blink, the warlock was flinging out a hand and chanting something, and then the next thing I knew, a silver chain had appeared out of nowhere and was wrapping itself around my brother's throat.

Ezra let out another snarl, twisting around to snap at the chain with his teeth. Klaus was there a moment later, yanking the chain apart with his bare hands and freeing my brother. Ezra wasted no time once free, and lunged again at Papa Tunde. Only to freeze when the warlock clenched one hand in a fist and Rebekah's body correspondingly became even more desiccated.

Ezra clearly felt the impact of it at once, his ears flattening back against his skull as a low whine escaped his throat. He even took a few steps backwards, away from Papa Tunde and closer to Rebekah, as if he could somehow stop the spell by being in between them.

It occurred to me that we were at a serious disadvantage.

Papa Tunde obviously had the upper-hand here. He had not only one or two, but _three_ hostages, all of them important to us. He'd chosen well when he'd picked them; Thierry was important to Marcel, Marcel was important to Klaus, and Rebekah was important to...well, pretty much all of us. Marcel was clearly Papa Tunde's focus, though; his capture of Rebekah had served the dual purpose of providing him with a new source of power why simultaneously drawing out Marcel. Papa Tunde had know enough about Marcel to manipulate him splendidly; Marcel, deep in his grief, wouldn't have left the Abattoir for any reason...unless it was to try and save a woman he'd been very intimately involved with. Thierry, playing the obligatory best friend role, had no doubt accompanied his sire in an attempt to talk some sense into him. To no avail, of course. And with Marcel captured as a result, Papa Tunde had acquired everything he'd needed to get us all in one place. Or at least...get _Klaus_ where he wanted him.

Because it was about Klaus, wasn't it? Klaus, who had killed this man's sons.

I probably should have been upset with Klaus for those murders, but I had a feeling that Tunde's sons hadn't fallen far from the family tree; undoubtedly they'd been just as sick and twisted as their father, and had deserved their deaths.

Just as Tunde had deserved his death, the first time around. It should have surprised me, yet another long-dead threat returning to life, but strangely I didn't feel anything about it other than resignation. Clearly, coming to New Orleans had invited the universe to pile this sort of crap on me and my brother. Assassins by the bucketful? Of course. Crazy people coming back to life? Check and double-check. Getting sucked into ridiculously elaborate revenge schemes for no apparent reason? Abso-freaking-lutely.

There were some days when I just wanted to snatch up a sledgehammer and smash everything in sight. This day was definitely heading that direction, no doubt about it.

Before I let my emotions spiral out of control, though, I took a deep breath and focused. Reaching out mentally, I could sense the magic in the circle of salt surrounding Rebekah. Needing to see it up close to get a better feel for it, I edged away from where Tunde knelt beside Marcel and went to join Elijah where he hovered nervously by the circle, as close to his sister as he could get.

"Can you break the boundary spell?" he asked me, voice hoarse with worry and stress.

I reached out a hand and met very solid resistance where I pressed against the air above the salt circle. "I can try," I told him honestly. I was good, but so was Papa Tunde. Not to mention the fact that I was out of practice and still exhausted from my most recent bout of magical mayhem. And as carefully as Tunde had put all of this together, he had to have known that the Mikaelsons had witches of their own; he would have prepared for my presence, my brother's presence. He would have made sure to use a spell that was hard to break.

Or maybe not. As I pressed harder against the invisible barrier, I got a better sense of the underlying spellwork. The deeper I looked, the simpler the spell seemed. And after a moment of thought, the simplicity actually made sense.

Rebekah had never been Tunde's focus; to him, she was just the means to an end, a battery for his magic and a lure to draw out Marcel and Klaus. So it made sense for the boundary spell containing her to be basic; he didn't care enough about what happened to her to make the circle strong.

I realized very suddenly what we had to do to break the spell.

I bolted to my feet and whirled to face Elijah. "Bite me," I said to him.

His eyes widened as he stared at me like I'd just asked him to go dancing through the French Quarter in nothing but a bright yellow tutu. "I beg your pardon?"

"Elijah." I reached out and shook his shoulders gently. " _Bite me_."

And still all he did was look at me in shock, his mouth even hanging open in what would have been an adorably dumbstruck look had we not been in the middle of a massive crisis.

Losing patience, I shoved my wrist into his face. "Elijah, for fuck's sake, bite me. We can break the spell using witch's blood. The magic in my blood will throw off the balance in the boundary magic and then we can get Rebekah out. _So will you please just bite me already?_ "

He hesitated, then lowered his mouth to my wrist. Another brief pause, and then his lips were brushing against the sensitive skin of my wrist in a way that sent little shivering tingles cascading throughout my body. Then his fangs were piercing my skin, a sharp pain that gentled into a lesser ache, and I could feel my blood leaking from the puncture wounds, dripping down my wrist and along the back of my hand to splatter on the floor.

Not wanting to waste even a second, I pulled away from Elijah and spun back around to the circle of salt trapping Rebekah. I held my wrist above the salt line, and watched with immense satisfaction as the salt line hissed and dissolved when touched by my blood, the magic forming the spell evaporating in similar manner.

I wanted to be thorough, though; I wanted to be absolutely sure that this spell was broken. So I methodically worked my way around almost the entire circle, dripping my blood onto the salt until my hands were shaking and my vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

 _Blood loss_ , a clinical part of my mind informed me. _You're going into shock from blood loss._

As I approached the part of the circle I'd started at, I tripped over a crack in the warehouse floor, stumbling over my own two feet as I tried to regain my footing. Elijah was there in an instant, wrapping an arm around my waist and saving me from doing graceless faceplant.

But I wasn't the one he was supposed to be rescuing.

"Your sister," I told him weakly, my tongue heavy and thick in my mouth. "You need to...get her out."

"Zoe, you look very pale and your heart-rate is-"

"Forget my heart-rate," I snapped, finding just enough energy left in myself to raise my voice and put some stop-screwing-around-you-moron into my tone. "Go get your sister so we can get the hell out of here!"

He looking at me intently for another second or two, and then he was gone, leaving my side to rush into the ruined remains of the salt circle. He brushed a gentle hand down the side of his sister's face before scooping her up in his arms. Then he was back at my side again, taking my hand in his. And then I was being pulled along as he used his vampire speed to get us out of the warehouse and away from whatever bloodbath was about to go down between our respective brothers and the warlock who'd been foolish enough to threaten the people we cared about.


	55. Chapter 55

" **You define what is important to you by what you dedicate your time to. "**

* * *

Ezra could tell immediately when Papa Tunde's connection to Rebekah was broken; the warlock's power level dropped drastically and he staggered like he'd taken a blow. Ezra wasting no time in seizing the opening such a moment provided; he lunged forward and sank his teeth into the warlock's arm, yanking him away from Marcel with a snarl.

Papa Tunde swiped his free hand at Ezra's snout, his fingers sparking with black fire.

Ezra released his grip on Tunde and bounded back, relieved to see that Klaus had grabbed up Marcel and was hustling his friend towards the exit.

Ezra wasn't going to follow after them at first. He would have much rather remained behind to tear Tunde in little bloody pieces. But then Klaus was telling him not to be stupid, shouting over his shoulder that they could come back and deal with Tunde later.

Ezra didn't want to go, didn't want to listen. Didn't want to let his target get away.

But then he remembered the reason he was there in the first place. _Who_ he was there for.

He snarled at Papa Tunde one final time, then whirled around and ran after Klaus, bursting out of the door like he had hellhounds on his tail.

He caught up with the others just in time to see Elijah load Rebekah into the back seat of a car Zoe seemed to have appropriated from a nearby parking lot. Ezra probably should have let Rebekah's brothers sit with her. It would have been the proper gentlemanly thing to do, letting her brothers sit with her and look after her while she was so weak.

But both the wolf in him and the man in him couldn't stand to stay away; he needed to be close to her.  
  
He briefly considered shifting back to human form, since his wolf form was so ridiculously huge, but he figured Klaus and Elijah probably wouldn't appreciate him being right next to their precious baby sister while wearing no clothes; unlike Zoe who could sometimes, somehow, get her clothes back after shifting, he had spectacularly rotten luck with it.

Besides, Rebekah was trembling and shivering like it was below zero outside and snowing; he figured maybe he could put his shaggy fur coat to some sort of use.

So he hopped into the backseat and snuggled around her as best he could, resting his head on the the seat not far from where her gold hair was splayed across the fabric of the seat. To his immense surprise, Rebekah turned her head to the side so she could see him, her cracked lips curving into a faint smile.

"Ezra," she said, and even though her voice was shaking and weak it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

He nuzzled his snout against her cheek for a moment, then lowered his head back down onto the seat again. A moment later, he felt Rebekah twin her hands into the thick fur around his neck, her grip surprisingly strong despite the tremors wracking her body. And instead of finding the grip on his fur annoying or constricting, it felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if Rebekah had buried her hands in his fur a thousand times before.

Elijah watched them with pursed lips and a contemplative expression for a moment, but then Zoe snapped at him to get his ass into the shotgun seat and hurry the hell up about it, and Elijah obeyed without argument, pausing only to glance around and made sure that Klaus had Marcel and that they were making a similar getaway.

And sure enough, the Original hybrid had managed to acquire a vehicle of his own and had tucked Marcel into the backseat, along with Thierry, who Klaus had apparently gone back inside to retrieve. Klaus himself paused only long enough to nod at his brother, and then he was hopping into the driver's seat of his borrowed Cadillac and blasting away from the warehouse and down the street with a screech of tires.

And then Elijah was sliding into the rusted out Chevy, and Zoe was following Klaus's example by ignoring all the posted speed limits and paying only the minimum amount of required attention to the various other traffic laws.

They did have to slow down once they entered the city proper though, which was annoying. Ezra wanted to get back t the safety and security of the Abattoir as soon as possible, and he could tell that Zoe and Elijah felt the same. It was clear in the way Zoe drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, and in the way Elijah's hands were gripping the armrests of his seat just a little more tightly than was necessary.

Ezra just gave a low whine and pressed closer to Rebekah, the knot of tension inside his chest loosening ever so slightly as she tightened her grip on him and buried her face in his fur.

As long as he was with her and she was safe, nothing else mattered.

* * *

After navigating a particularly aggravating patch of traffic on the edge of the Quarter, we finally managed to make it back to the Abattoir. And if someone had told me six months ago that I'd be overwhelmingly relieved to return to a place named the Abattoir, I'd have laughed in their faces. But life was funny like that sometimes, wasn't it? Because there was nowhere else in the city I would've rather been right then than back safe in that compound.

In any case, I parked behind Klaus and unlocked the Chevy's doors so that Elijah could retrieve his siter form the backseat. Ezra followed after them, of course; if Ezra let Rebekah out of his sight for more than thirty consecutive seconds in the immediate future, I would be very surprised. Her capture and weakening at Tunde's hands had triggered something inside of my brother, and I had a nagging feeling that I knew what was going on. I did my best not to think about it though, which turned out to be not so hard since I began to grow extremely dizzy and thinking about anything at all suddenly became excruciatingly difficult.

It wasn't until I reached to open my car door and a sharp stabbing pain pulsed through my wrist that I remembered Elijah's bite, and the fact that, oh yeah, I was still bleeding out.

Yes, I know, I'm an idiot.

* * *

Elijah tucked Rebekah into her bed with a level of care he hadn't needed to use since they were children, a time so far gone that it was a wonder he could even recall it.

A notable difference between now and then was that his sister was no longer a child. No, she was a grown woman now, beautiful and bold. And so, so precious.

The massive hulking wolf who was curled up on the floor by Rebekah's bed clearly felt the same; Elijah had wondered at Ezra's single-minded determination to find and save Rebekah, but now he was beginning to feel as if he understood. That same desperate need had possessed Elijah as well, after all, when Zoe had been in danger. And that same feeling had kept him at her bedside almost constantly until she'd finally awoken.

So he let Ezra remain in Rebekah's room, because he knew that Zoe's brother would look after her. Elijah closed his sister's door softly behind him and went downstairs, intending to track down Klaus and make sure that his wayward brother was actually looking after Marcel as he'd said he would, rather than rushing back to the warehouse to exact vengeance upon Tunde. Again.

His quick steps came to a sudden halt when he passed by a smaller den-type room and saw Zoe half-unconscious on the floor in front of the little fireplace, huddled underneath a fluffy little blanket that had previously been draped over the back of an armchair.

"Zoe?" he said questioningly, taking a hesitant step inside the room. Then he smelled the blood, _her_ blood, and that single step turned into a sprint. "Zoe!"

She blinked up at him sleepily, the glow from the fireplace making her look younger and softer. "Hmm?"

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, worry making his voice come out sharper than he'd intended.

Zoe just gave a little shrug and snuggled deeper into her blanket, not seeming to care about the fact that she was curled up on a cold stone floor. "Not really," she told him. "Dizzy." She gave a wide yawn. "And sleepy."

"I smell blood," he countered.

"You bit me," she replied, "remember?"

As if he could forget. "It hasn't healed yet? With your recovery speed in the past, I assumed..."

"That the bite would have healed by now?" She gave another unconcerned shrug. "I thought so, too, but I guess my healing abilities are lagging behind a little bit right now. It's fine," she assured him. "It'll heal up by tomorrow or the next day. No big deal."

Elijah couldn't believe her own lack of care over her own condition. "It is a big deal," he told her, frowning. "Did you even bandage it?"

Another infuriating shrug. "I wanted to sit by the fire," she said, as if that explained everything.

He blinked at her, momentarily thrown for a loop. Then, realizing that Zoe might not be firing on all cylinders at the moment, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He went upstairs, retrieved a first aid kit from a guest bathroom, then retraced his steps back to Zoe. She grumbled at him when he took her arm and started tending to the puncture wounds on her wrist, but offered no real resistance to his ministrations. He took that as a win, since an acquiescence of any kind from Zoe was so damnably rare.

He rubbed some ointment on the wounds, and the comfortable silence was broken only by an incredulous remark from the woman in front of him.

"You're putting Neosporin on it?" she asked, looking delighted. "That's adorable."

He chuckled, his heart warming at the teasing light in her eyes. "Well, you said yourself that the wounds won't heal for another day or two. What a shame it would be," he went on lightly, "if you were to succumb to infection during that time."

Zoe snorted in amusement, a smile quirking up the corners of her mouth. "I don't succumb to anything," she replied. "Except maybe food poisoning," she added thoughtfully. "That's miserable. Especially when it's from something with dairy."

Elijah laughed at the expression on her face, and Zoe matched his mirth with a wide grin that made his heart trip all over itself trying to remember how to beat steady. He focused his attention on gently wrapping Zoe's wrist in gauze. "You say the most interesting things, Zoe Storme."

She just smiled at him, a slight flush creeping across her cheeks.

But then her playful expression dropped, her face going carefully blank as she glanced over his shoulder. Concerned by the sudden shift in her mood, he twisted around to see what was making her look that way. To his dismay, Hayley was standing in the doorway, wearing a look on her face like she'd bitten into a lemon.

"Hello, Hayley," Elijah told her politely and gave her a thin smile; once upon a time the smile would have been wider and more sincere, but after Hayley's confession regarding Celeste's remains, Elijah had found it harder and harder to be friendly to the young pregnant werewolf. "Is there something you needed?"

"Uh..." Hayley tore her gaze away from Elijah holding Zoe's wrist and fixed her stare on his face instead. "Yeah, actually." She swallowed hard and seemed to visibly steel herself. "Can we talk?"

Elijah waved at her to speak. "Go ahead."

"In private," Hayley amended, shooting a pointed look in Zoe's direction.

Elijah opened his mouth to reply that Hayley could say whatever she wanted to right then and there or not at all, but before he could deliver his ultimatum, Zoe bolted to her feet. She wobbled a bit but then steadied, and the look on her face was so icy and remote it was almost like looking at a stranger.

"I'm feeling pretty worn out," she said flatly, her voice slightly strained but otherwise emotionless. "I'm going to go rest in my room."

Elijah wanted to protest her sudden departure, or at least offer to carry her up the stairs since the blood loss has clearly left her a little unsteady, but she was pulling away and heading for the door before he could say even a single word.

* * *

I tried not to be mad at Hayley.

Really, I did.

I also failed spectacularly at it, because no matter how many deep breaths I took or how many times I counted to ten, I couldn't get my ire to subside. Even the wooziness from the blood loss wasn't distracting me from my fury.

It had been an almost perfect moment. Me and Elijah, in front of a cozy little fireplace, poking fun at each other as he fussed over my injured wrist.

I'd been about to kiss him.

It had taken me some time to work up the courage for it, but I'd finally decided to take the jump and go for it.

And _of course_ Hayley had chosen that specific moment to track down Elijah for a heart-to-heart. And Elijah, gentleman that he was, seemed to have forgiven Hayley for her betrayal already; he'd even smiled at her a little when she came into the room! And he obviously hadn't been about to send her away, either.

So I left.

I strode from the room on legs that were shakier than I would have liked but still reliable. Those legs carried me up the stairs and down the hall to my bedroom, growing steadier with every step.

By the time I reached my room and darted inside, I was feeling more like myself again. My wrist itched underneath the wrapping Elijah had placed on it, but I ignored the sensation; the less I thought about Elijah in any capacity right now, the better it would be for my emotional health and mental stability.

So I went and parked myself at my desk, powering on my laptop and throwing myself once more into the mystery of the beheaded motel clerk.


	56. Chapter 56

" **I don't forgive people because I'm weak. I forgive them because I am strong enough to understand that people make mistakes. "**

* * *

Ezra spent roughly ten hours dozing on the floor of Rebekah's bedroom as a wolf. He would have stayed even longer, but Klaus had finally returned from getting Marcel and Thierry settled in, as well as getting the other vampires sorted out, and it was clear that the Original hybrid wanted some time alone with his sister. So Ezra uncurled from his resting position on Rebekah's rug, shook out his fur a bit, then lumbered towards the door.

He was stopped on his way out, though, as Klaus rested a hand lightly on his head between his ears.

"Thank you for looking after her," Klaus said in a low voice, and his facial expression was so solemn that Ezra didn't doubt the sincerity of his gratitude.

Since he was a wolf and couldn't talk, he just nipped at Klaus's fingers and gave a chuffing sound in reply

A small smile flitted across Klaus's face. "You should get some rest," his friend advised. "It's been a long day, and no doubt tomorrow will likely bring more of the same."

Ezra huffed out a little wolf-sigh of unhappy agreement then padded from the room on quiet paws. Once back in the privacy of his own bedroom, he shifted back into human form and stretched his arms up above his head to try and loosen up some of the tightness lingering in his muscles. He was almost entirely recovered from Sirena's torture, but there were still aches and twinges here and there, as well as a sort of just general weariness.

After a moment of self-assessment, though, he realized that he actually didn't care very much about any of those things right then. No, his thoughts kept drifting back to Rebekah instead; how fragile she'd looked in that circles, how she'd clung to him during the car ride back to the compound.

How he'd surrendered control to his wolf just for an edge to help find her. That, most of all, made both his head and heart hurt.

He'd never, never given up control so completely, not for any reason. There had been a handful of times when Ezra himself had been too weak, too damaged, and his wolf had seized control for the sake of survival. But that had always been a case of the wolf _taking_ control; Ezra had never _given_ it.

But he'd done it for her.

He'd done it for her, with absolutely no guarantee that he'd be able to get control of his body back from his wolf afterward; no guarantee that letting his wolf take over wouldn't erase Ezra himself altogether.

No guarantees whatsoever that he wasn't destroying himself trying to save her.

At the time, those risks hadn't mattered, hadn't seemed important. Getting to Rebekah and making sure that she was safe had been all he'd been able to think of. But now, looking back on it...God, it had been suck a risk.

But worth it, he realized. Rebekah...she was worth it.

And things had turned out well enough this time around. They'd gotten Rebekah back, and Ezra's hold on his wolf didn't _seem_ to be any lesser from the effort earlier.

Which left him with only one real worry.

If Rebekah was put in danger again, would he make the same choice? Would he surrender control to his wolf to keep her safe? Even knowing how much of a risk it could be for his own well-being?

He was more than a little horrified to realize that the answer was...yes. Yes, he would risk it all, for her.

For Rebekah.

* * *

I drummed my fingers impatiently on the edge of the desk as I waited for the printer to finish churning out the crime scene photos I'd bribed an NOPD rookie for; the kid had been just enough of a newbie to cave under a delicate combination of threats and bribery, and had agreed to send me the photos after forty minutes of careful negotiating.

I had thanked him, arranged for an Edible Arrangements gift basket to reinforce my gratitude, and then proceeded to spend another four hours poring over the pictures on my computer, hunting for some detail that would point me in the right direction. And after two hundred and forty-seven minutes of zooming, enhancing, squinting, and rotating, I'd found something.

I'd thought it was a tattoo at first, and hadn't paid much attention to it, because this was America and if a nice motel clerk wanted to get some ink on his skin it was nobody's business but his own. But something about it had been nagging at me, and I'd fussed with my computer's picture editing software until I got a better look at the mark from the corpse. And what I'd seen intrigued me.

It seemed to be a coven sigil, a mark that a coven would traditionally use to identify themselves, not unlike a family crest. But this sigil wasn't one I recognized. Which didn't necessarily mean anything; covens pop in and out of existence like boy bands, there one day and gone into oblivion the next. This mark, though, captured my attention, even though the image was out-of-focus and hard to identfiy.

I hadn't realized why it had caught my interest at first, but then I'd seen a circle of thorns wrapped around the main design of the sigil, and it had reminded me of Sirena's personal crest, a winged serpent with thorns wrapped around its body. It was a tenuous connection at best, but it was enough to make me curious. Could Sirena have had something to do with the murder at the motel after all? I'd ruled her out as a suspect initially, even despite her bloody reappearance into our lives, simply because the clerk's death hadn't really been her style.

Something as simply as a beheading wasn't like her. She preferred to use poisons and torture to bring someone down; she liked to see her victims suffer. And a beheading, while gruesome, was a quick end for the victim. No suffering, no prolonged agony. And so I'd drawn the conclusion: not Sirena.

The strange sigil, though, was making me go back and reconsider her involvement. I still didn't think she'd done the kill herself, but it was possible that she'd had a hand in it, somehow.

Seriously, though... _how?_

* * *

To say that Elijah didn't want to deal with Hayley right then would have been an understatement. That being said, he did understand that a talk between the two of them was probably a fair bit overdue.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked her, standing up and brushing himself off from where he'd knelt down beside Zoe; he wished she was here with him now, but she'd dashed from the room as if she'd caught on fire, and he knew her well enough to know better than to chase her down.

Hayley just stared at him with wide eyes, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry about Celeste," she blurted out at last. "I know you really loved her and that she still means a lot to you, and I shouldn't have gone behind your back to help Sophie dig up her bones."

He let her words hover in the air between them for a moment before speaking. "Is that all?"

She winced a little at his chilly tone. "Elijah, I'm really, _really_ sorry."

He clenched his jaw at the pleading look in her eyes. "Fine, then," he said at last, exasperation lacing his tone. "Apology accepted."

Her face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. "Really? Great!"

He tried to hang onto his resentment, but it was hard to do with Hayley standing there looking so desperate for his forgiveness and acceptance. Still, he wasn't willing to let her off the hook entirely. "I need to know why, Hayley."

Her face fell a little, her excited relief dimming. "Why what?"

"Why did you do it," he told her. "Why, when you _knew_ how much she means to me?"

A long stretch of silence, then "Because...she's gone, Elijah." Hayley swallowed. "She's dead, and she has been for a while. My people, my _family_? They're here _now._ And they need my help."

Elijah couldn't think of a good response to that. He hated what she'd done, but she'd done it for the sake of family. Hadn't he done much worse, for his own family? He was, he realized, in no position to judge Hayley so harshly, not after some of the reprehensible actions _he'd_ taken or condoned in the past.

He swallowed hard and shook his head, banishing the echoes of his deeds that were rising in his mind. "I can't blame you for trying to help your people," he said to Hayley.

She gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Elijah. Not that it did me or them any good in the end," she added bitterly.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hayley huffed out an angry breath and reached up tp brush a strand of hair out of her face. "Well, Sophie teamed up with that Sirena chick, right? Ezra's psycho ex-girlfriend?"

"It would seem that way, yes," Elijah agreed.

"So she's our enemy again," Hayley finished. "And enemies don't help each other break curses on the other side's loved ones, do they?" She shook her head, looking furious. "I can't believe I ever trusted her in the first place. You'd think I would have learned my lesson the first time, when she threatened me and the baby." She rested a hand protectively on her belly.

Elijah sighed. "I'm sure Sophie had every intention of trying to help you break the curse on the wolves out in the bayou. But...she's lost her way, I think. And now that her sister seems to be dead permanently..."

"She's not going to want to help anyone with anything," Hayley concluded. "I guess that doesn't surprise me...I just wish there was some way for me to help my family," she added, looking just a little bit desperate and lost. "Even just something small. _Anything._ "

Against some of his better indistinct, he went and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to offer a small bit of comfort. "We'll find a way to help them," he assured her. "Don't worry."

She leaned into him, resting her head lightly against his chest. "You promise?"

"I promise," he told her firmly.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is...really awesome, actually. In a sort of heart-breaking way? I think so, anyway. XD There's a lot of focus on the EzBekah pairing and Ezra specifically, particularly the issues he's having with relationships in general because of his bad history with Sirena. Hope you like the chapter, even if it's kind of emotionally intense in some places; please drop me a review when you're done reading, if you've got a second to spare. :) Trigger warnings for emotional trauma/panic attacks/etc.

**Chapter 57**

" **Aphenphosmphobia: a fear of being touched.  
Philophobia: a fear of emotional attachment or falling in love."**

* * *

Ezra was unspeakably relieved when Rebekah finally recovered back to full strength. It had taken two days, and he'd spent almost every minute of those two days one small step away from tearing his hair out in anxiety. Also one small step away from ripping out Marcel's throat because the vampire had taken to treating Ezra like some nobody who had no business being near Rebekah and shouldn't be hovering over the way he was.

She _had_ recovered, though, and was currently deep in discussion with her brothers about how to deal with Papa Tunde. They'd apparently had some run-ins with the guy before and were coming up with a plan of attack for the next time they crossed paths with him.

Ezra, meanwhile, was taking a long hot shower. Since he'd spent the better part of the last two days as a wolf on Rebekah's floor, a nice steamy shower was more than overdue. So he took his time shampooing, scrubbing, and rinsing, relishing in the feel of the water cascading down his skin. Forget the internet, indoor plumbing with hot water was the best human invention ever, period.

He stayed in the shower until the water started to turn lukewarm, then shut off the faucet and slipped out, wrapping a towel around his waist as he went back into his bedroom.

He froze in his tracks like a mouse in front of a cobra when he saw Rebekah sitting on the edge of his bed, apparently waiting for him.

She noticed his presence immediately, of course, and gave him a bright smile that did alarming things to his heart-rate. "Ezra!" she exclaimed. "There you are."

"Here I am," he agreed weakly, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel, as was the norm whenever she popped into his room unexpectedly; seriously, why did these sorts of things always happen to him?! "Did you need something?"

She stood up and walked over to him, her long legs eating up the distance with ease. "I wanted to...say thank you," she told him softly, giving him a hesitant little mile. "I was pretty out of it, but...I know you were there, Ezra. You helped get me out of that circle, and then you stayed with me the entire time afterward."

"Not the _entire_ time," he countered. "Marcel and your brothers kicked me out from time to time."

Her lips curved into a wider grin. "And yet you kept coming back."

He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I guess I'm a slow learner like that," he remarked, trying to be nonchalant about it.

Rebekah gave him a look that said she wasn't buying it. "Uh-huh. _Sure_ you are."

He smiled at her disbelieving tone of voice before he could catch himself and was rewarded with a startled laugh from Rebekah.

"So you _can_ be in a good mood around me," she said lightly. "I was starting to think that you weren't happy to see me up and around after all."

"Don't be stupid," he told her automatically. And then, more gently and almost against his will, "I'm always happy to see you."

He could see her surprise in the way her eyebrows shot up and in how her lips parted slightly in a little 'o' as if she didn't know what to say. But then her expression softened again, her eyes glowing with warmth. "Is that so," she said softly.

"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. "It is."

A careful, delicate moment of silence hovering between them, and then Rebekah took one final step forward. She reached one hand up to his cheek while she splayed the fingers of her other hand across his bare chest. And then her lips were on his and it was as if he'd been waiting his entire life for that moment. He could smell Rebekah's scent, and hear the beat of her heart in her chest; he could feel the heat of her body from where she was pressed up against him. And most of all, he could feel and taste her lips. She was kissing him, and it was gentle and demanding all at once, and so, so spectacular and amazing.

She was kissing him, and for just one moment it was absolutely perfect.

Then everything fell apart.

* * *

I was in the middle of a phone call with the coroner's assistant when I first felt an unpleasant twanging sensation through the bond connecting me with my brother. Frowning, I glanced over at my door in puzzlement, wondering what was going on and if I should go investigate. Then I heard Rebekah give a cry of alarm, followed by a hoarse wordless shout from my brother, and a much more frightening flurry of emotions came rushing along our bond.

I tossed down my phone and bolted for the door, racing for my brother's room. I crashed into Klaus along the way and we went tumbling down to the floor together, both of us flinging curses and insults at each other like volleys of arrows. After a moment of mutual aggravation, we disentangled ourselves and resumed our dash to Ezra's room. I made it in first somehow, but screeched to a halt barely three steps into the room; Klaus didn't quite manage to stop in time to avoid hitting me and collided into the edge of my shoulder with an 'oomph' and another glare.

The he realized why I'd frozen and he transferred a much deadlier glare to my almost-naked brother, who was pressed up against the far wall with his hands braced on his knees as he took in shallow and uneven gasps of air. Standing several steps again from him was Rebekah, her cheeks flushed and her lips more pink than usual.

"What the hell is going on here?" Klaus demanded. "What are you doing in here?" he asked his sister.

"I wanted to thank Ezra for looking after me while I was incapacitated," Rebekah said quietly, her eyes wide and slightly alarmed as she stared at my brother.

"Is there a reason for why such a conversation had to happen while he was in a state of undress?" Klaus questioned, his voice silky soft with menace.

"Oh, stop it, Nik!" Rebekah turned on him with a glare. "It's really none of your business, anyway."

"Not my business when a man is standing barely ten paces away from my sister with nothing covering him but a towel?!"

I tuned out their back and forth bickering as I realized how really terrible my twin looked.

He was dreadfully pale, his face the color of old chalk, and there was a sheen of sweat across his skin. On top of that, his entire body was shaking violently, and even across the room I could see his pulse pounding erratically in his throat.

"Ezra," I said in a low voice, approaching him with careful, slow movements. "Talk to me. What happened?"

My twin just shook his head, shuddering. "Can't breathe," he wheezed, reaching up a hand to rub at his chest.

"What?" I asked anxiously, darting to his side. "Why? What's wrong?"

He flinched back when I went to touch him and took another shuddering breath. "Don't touch me," he gasped, leaning away from me. "Can't breathe," he repeated a moment later, closing his eyes like he was in pain.

"Ezra..." I murmured, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how; I didn't even know what was wrong. I was helpless to do anything to help my brother and I wanted to scream in fearful frustration.

"I don't understand," Rebekah said suddenly, her voice shaking. "All I did was kiss him. I don't know why he-"

"You did _what?!_ " Klaus snarled, his abrupt fury so great that the windows rattled in their frames.

I jumped immediately in front of my brother as Klaus lunged in his direction, expression murderous.

"You back the fuck off right now," I snapped at him.

"He kissed her!" Klaus roared, and his wrath would have sent any sane person running for cover.

But I am not sane, not when it comes to protecting my brother. Ezra might have been two minutes and forty-two seconds older than me and technically the eldest, but I was just as protective of him as he was of me. " _She_ kissed _him_ ," I growled, shoving Klaus back as he tried to step around me. "And for fuck's sake, Klaus, would you stop for a second and _look at him?_ Does he look like he's enjoying the afterglow of a good kiss?!"

Klaus snarled again, clearly not wanting to pay any attention to my words, but then he did look past me to my brother, and some of the fury drained from his face as he saw, _really_ saw, the condition my brother was in. He opened his mouth, but I didn't have a chance to hear what he was going to say next, because a low moan from my brother had me spinning around and refocusing on my twin.

Ezra lifted his head to look at me, and his gaze was gold with blue creeping in around the edges; even as I watched, I could the blue spreading across his irises, heralding an imminent loss of control that I finally understood the cause of. It had taken Rebekah filling in the last missing piece of the puzzle, but now I knew what had caused my brother to slide into a major freak-out.

"Zoe," my brother gasped. "I can't. I just...I _can't_."

"I know," I whispered, taking a step away and to the side so that he had a clear shot for the door. "Go."

Blue washed though my brother's eyes like a cresting wave and he kicked away from the wall, shifting form even as he bolted for the door. Klaus and Rebekah both jumped farther out of the way as the massive wolf surged past them and sprinted out of the room, and we all remained silence as the sound of his paw-steps grew more distant and then went away completely as he passed out of our range of hearing.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Rebekah asked at last, breaking the brittle silence between us as we stood there.

"That," I replied bitterly, "was Sirena's legacy."

Rebekah brow furrowed in confusion as she and her brother both frowned at me. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Did she leave some sort of hex on him, or...?"

"Nothing so simple," I muttered unhappily. "No," I said, shaking my head, "this isn't something she did to him deliberately. It's just...the result of everything she put him through. It's entirely psychological," I explained. "He's phobic, sort of, about...well, women and kissing and relationships and stuff."

They both stared at me like I was speaking in Sumerian.

"Stop looking at me like that," I snapped irritably. "Is it really so hard to believe, after everything she did to him?"

"Well, no," Rebekah said slowly. "I just didn't realize..."

"That he was really so fucked up in the head from what she did?"

She swallowed hard. "...yeah."

I heaved a massive sigh. "Well, believe it. Why else do you think he's so twitchy around women, like at that masquerade party? Or why he's been single all this time? Did you really never wonder?"

Rebekah just shook her head mutely, a look of mixed horror and pity crossing her face as she turned and looked out the door Ezra had fled through just moments before. Klaus, likewise, no longer looked furious at my brother's actions, and instead looked regretful and contemplative, and I could see what might have been sympathy in his eyes.

But I didn't want to discuss this any further, didn't want to explain how deep the damage ran in my brother's soul. I didn't want to talk about how scared I was that maybe there was nothing to be done about the pain my brother carried around with him constantly, about how someday he might run from that pain and never come home.

I didn't want to think about those things, much less talk about them, so I turned on my heel and strode from the room, not even glancing over my shoulder or pausing for a second as Klaus and Rebekah called after me.

* * *

Ezra ran and ran and ran and ran, letting his wolf carry him far, far away from the compound and the people within it. He ran until his paws were sore and blistering, until his lungs felt as if they were on fire, and until his muscles quivered from exhaustion.

When he finally stopped running, he discovered that he'd somehow made it all the way out to Luling. Almost twenty-four miles out from where he'd started, and almost no clear recollection of the distance he'd crossed or the time doing so had taken. Crossing across such a vast distance _had_ to have taken at least several hours even at the fastest pace of his wolf's body, and yet it was all just a hazy blur in his mind. He could recall faint snatches of the run, glimpses of roads and trees and long stretches of grassy land, but he couldn't remember any distinct details of any of it. He'd been too lost in his own head, and his wolf had seized control as it so often did when he lapsed and couldn't handle his own agony. He would have resented his wolf usurping control of his body again, but deep down he knew that his other half was just trying to protect him, to keep him safe in the only way it knew how.

He just wished such measures weren't necessary. He wanted to be strong enough on his own, to not need his wolf to protect him from himself. He wanted to have good moments in his life without needing to worry about the shadows of the past catching up with him and drowning him in pain over and over again, until all he desired was an end to the agony.

He just wanted a chance to be happy...was that really so much to ask for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say that this chapter was sort of heart-breaking? Oh, I'm sorry, I meant totally crushing and angst-ridden. *sobs*
> 
> On the plus side, WE HAD OUR FIRST EZBEKAH KISS! How about that?!
> 
> It all went completely sideways about ten seconds after, but still. XD
> 
> Seriously, though, I know it seems like I'm being cruel to poor Ezra, but he needs to start working through this stuff if he's going to have any chance at making things work with Rebekah. We also needed to give Klaus a chance to flip his lid, because while he's been pretty understanding thus far, he is still Klaus. ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter! (Although I think 'enjoy' might be the wrong word? Hmm...) Drop me a review if you've got a second to spare; you all know how much I adore feedback. ;D I should have the next chapter posted within a week, as usual.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter! I know you're all eager for more Zolijah action, but this chapter revolves mostly around the Klezra (Klaus/Ezra) friendship and the aftermath of that kiss-gone-wrong that happened in the last chapter with Ezra and Rebekah. Also, the entire chapter is from Klaus's perspective, so that's pretty fun/interesting. ;) Also, there's a new addition to the Inevitable: Screenshots series if you want to check that out. :)

**Chapter 58**

" **Moving on doesn't mean forgetting about things. It just means you have to accept what happened and continue living."**

* * *

It was, Klaus realized, probably for the best that Ezra didn't return to the Abattoir right away. Because while he could _logically_ understand what was going on with Zoe's brother and knew he shouldn't be overly upset with him for what had happened with Rebekah, _emotionally_ he was not on board with the events of the day.

Rebekah was unspeakably important to him, his precious baby sister who he loved more than words could describe. He'd adored her ever since they were children, and even now with centuries of misunderstandings and bad blood between them, all he wanted was for her to be happy. For them to be a family again.

That being said, his sister had an undeniable track record of falling in with the wrong sorts of men romantically. Not that there was really a 'right' type of man...in Klaus's honest opinion, there was no man good enough for Rebekah. He'd been close to allowing her to settle down with Marcel all those years ago, but even after he'd given their relationship his (admittedly reluctant) blessing, it still hadn't felt... _right_.

What disturbed him the most now, though, wasn't that Rebekah's kissing Ezra (or at least attempting to) seemed wrong. It was that it _didn't_ seem wrong...which was almost twice as unsettling. He'd never approved of any of the men his sister had taken up with, and he didn't know what to think about how he seemingly lacked that immediate negative reaction when his sister started to show an attraction to _Ezra Storme_ of all people.

Maybe, Klaus thought, he didn't mind because a relationship with Ezra wasn't _really_ on the table; Ezra's inability to handle intimacy had become readily apparent, after that unexpected kiss Rebekah had bestowed upon him, and if Zoe was to be believed Ezra was broken inside in ways that might never fully heal.

Klaus hated that he could sympathize with that broken feeling, that helpless anger that came from knowing that you were never going to be quite right ever again, all because of something another person had done. It made him want to track down Sirena and rip out her treacherous heart, because Ezra didn't deserve to suffer for the rest of eternity from what she'd done, just as Klaus himself hadn't deserved what Mikael had done to him for the circumstances of his birth that he'd had no control of.

Life was, Klaus knew, bitterly unfair about ninety-eight percent of the time and only vaguely less depressing the other two percent of the time. And while Klaus could sometimes find solace in that two percent, in the moments of levity and sincerity he shared with Cami and in the preparations for the birth of his child, Ezra didn't have anything to find solace in.

So he made sure to rein in his wrath where Ezra was concerned. Zoe's brother hadn't initiated that kiss with Rebekah and clearly hadn't enjoyed the aftermath; if anything, the subsequent panic attack had undoubtedly entirely erased any and all pleasure Ezra had gotten from the kiss in the first place.

He made sure to keep those thoughts in mind when Ezra finally did return to the compound. It was difficult, because Klaus's instinctive reaction was still to go for Ezra's throat but he somehow managed to keep that particular violent impulse under control.

It helped, somehow, that Ezra was still in his wolf form when he arrived and that he wouldn't meet Klaus's eyes, his ears drooping slightly as he hesitantly padded over to where Klaus was leaning against the edge of a decorative fountain. Before the twins had come to New Orleans, Klaus wouldn't have thought anything of Ezra's posture and body language, but time with the Storme siblings had him recognizing what he should have already understood from his own long-buried wolf heritage. Ezra, despite being...well, Ezra, was displaying many of the trademarks of submissive behavior. And even as Klaus sat there, scowling at Ezra in frustrated bafflement, the Storme sibling in question finally reached Klaus and laid down at his feet with a low whimper, still not meeting his eyes.

Ezra was doing everything short of rolling over and baring his neck...and Klaus had no idea what to do with any of it. He didn't even understand why Ezra was doing this; Klaus may not have been as well-versed in Ezra's behavior as Zoe was, but he was pretty certain that he understood enough about Ezra to know that this was very drastically (and very disturbingly) out of character. Ezra was not the submissive type, either as a wolf or a man. He could fade into the background if he wanted to or pretend to be unassuming, but at the end of the day Ezra Storme was as dominant as they came. And yet here he was, prostrating himself before Klaus.

Klaus really had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do.

Completely at a loss for what course of action he should take, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number he was surprised to realize he knew by heart.

The person on the other end picked up after only a couple rings. "This is Zoe."

"Your twin is acting bizarre," Klaus informed her without preamble. "I was hoping you could counsel me in how I should respond."

A pause while Zoe excused herself from whoever she'd been talking to before he'd called. "Bizarre how?" she asked a moment later, her voice lowered as if she were trying to not be overheard.

"Just...strange," Klaus replied, then frowned as he heard an odd buzzing sound in the background of the call. "Where are you?"

"Some tattoo parlor on the other side of town," she answered with an aggravated sigh. "It's the fifth one I've been to today."

"Why are you-" He cut himself off. "Never mind. Look," he went on, "Ezra's acting very out of character, and I'm not sure what to do."

"Okay, well, what's he doing?"

Klaus huffed out an annoyed breath. "Acting submissive."

A long stretch of silence. "As a wolf or as a man?" Zoe asked eventually, her voice carefully controlled.

"He's in wolf shape," Klaus replied.

"But his eyes? Gold or blue?"

"Gold," Klaus said immediately, understanding why she was asking. "There's a thin ring of blue around the edges of his irises, but it's Ezra in control, not his wolf. I'm sure of it."

"Well, in that case...my guess would be he's...sort of apologizing?"

"Apologizing?" Klaus echoed.

"Yeah. I mean, he kissed your sister, right? And he knows how protective you are of her, so maybe this is his way of apologizing? Although," she tacked on, "if he's adhering to pack etiquette, he's not apologizing for the kiss itself so much as apologizing for acting out of line."

"Pack etiquette?" Klaus repeated incredulously. "Why on earth would pack etiquette prompt him to do something so ridiculous?"

"It's not ridiculous," Zoe answered. "You're our alpha, right? Of course he's going to be acting a little submissive; kissing the alpha's sister is sort of a big deal. Especially when the alpha himself is a psychotic asshat who tends to murder his sister's boyfriends." A brief pause as Zoe seemed to consider her words. "I say all that with great affection, by the way."

Klaus couldn't seem to say anything at all; his throat felt oddly choked and his brain felt like someone had wrapped it in thick wool. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"That I meant those insults with great affection."

"Before that," he snapped. "That bit of nonsense about being your alpha."

Zoe made an amused sound. "You really are totally clueless sometimes, aren't you?"

He growled at her through the phone. "For someone who doesn't mean to be insulting me, you seem to be taking great in delight in it."

Zoe tsked at him. "It's hard not to, when you get so adorably surly about it."

" _Adorably surly?_ " he snarled.

"Look," Zoe said with a laugh, "don't worry about the wolfy pack dynamics of it right now, okay? You're Ezra's best friend, and he's worried that you're mad at him. So just...talk it out, or something. Whatever it is guys do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Klaus asked in annoyance. "Whatever _guys_ do."

"How should I know?" Zoe asked lightly. "I ain't a guy."

"Zoe-"

"Look, I gotta go. The artist I was waiting to see just came in and if I don't talk to him now I'm going to spend another two hours sitting here being bored out of my mind. So look after my brother for me, and I'll be home as soon I can, okay? Bye."

"Wait, Zoe-"

But it was too late; she'd already hung up on him.

Aggravated, he pocketed his phone and glanced down at the massive wolf that was Ezra. Zoe's brother seemed to have perked up a bit from having heard his sister's voice from the speaker of Klaus's phone, but he still wouldn't meet Klaus's eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on a patch of floor to the left of where Klaus was standing.

"You're being completely ridiculous," Klaus informed him. "I hate this sort of behavior when Marcellus does it, and I have to say that it certainly doesn't suit you, either."

Ezra snarled a little at the mention of Marcel, but otherwise gave no indication that he'd even heard Klaus speak. Still, it was more of a reaction that anything he'd gotten before. Maybe baiting Ezra would snap him out of this bizarre submissive funk; Klaus hoped so at any rate, because the only alternative was to try to be understanding and supportive and he wouldn't even know what to say to Ezra that would fall under that heading.

So, provocation it was. And Klaus knew just which buttons to push.

"Marcel," he said, putting extra emphasis on the same, "would have given up on this silly behavior already, Not one for genuflecting, my Marcellus. _He_ certainly wouldn't be nosing at my feet like some pitiful peasant begging for scraps."

Ezra lifted his head up with a rumbling growl, his lips curling in a fearsome snarl. But still he wouldn't look Klaus in the eye.

 _You're our alpha_ , Zoe had told him.

"Complete and utter hogwash," Klaus muttered, not willing to put much stock into whatever pack behaviors she'd been referring to. "Listen to me," he said to Ezra, "whatever wolf etiquette you're following here? Stop. You know I've no experience in any of that, and no interest to learn it. So knock it off," he snapped, "before I go find Marcel and bring him here to poke fun at you."

 _That_ last dig finally got the response Klaus had been trying for. Ezra lunged up from the ground and snapped his jaws at Klaus's arm. Klaus jumped back but not quite fast enough to get away entirely unscathed; Ezra's sharp teeth snagged the edge of Klaus's sleeve and shredded the cuff of his jacket as the tips of Ezra's canines tore into his skin.

"Easy now," Klaus snapped, yanking his arm away with a glare. "Before I forget that I don't want to hurt you."

The wolf that was Ezra gave him a dirty look, one that seemed to convey his opinion on _that_ remark. _As if you could actually land a hit on me_ , that look said, complete with a haughty growling sound.

Klaus just rolled his eyes. "If you're feeling that confident, you must be back to normal." Shaking his head, he headed for the stairs. "I was going to castigate you a bit for kissing Rebekah, but you seem to have done a good job of punishing yourself already."

A strange sizzle of magic in the air had Klaus whirling around to find the source.

He immediately spun right back around when he realized it had been Ezra shifting back into human form. "That couldn't have waited until you were within arm's reach of a pair of pants?" Klaus griped, crossing his arms and not daring to so much as glance over his shoulder.

"You're very bashful for a barbarian," Ezra said, his voice full of wry amusement.

"And you're pushing your luck," Klaus shot back.

"I know," Ezra said, his tone suddenly serious. "I know I am. I just...wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about what happened."

"Not your fault," Klaus replied. "Rebekah kissed you."

"Yeah...but I kissed her back, Klaus." He sighed. "I'm probably digging my own grave telling you this, but...I do have feelings for Rebekah. I care about her, much more that I probably should given the circumstances. I just wanted you to know that. I _do_ have strong feelings for her-"

"Why are you telling me this?" Klaus demanded, cutting Ezra off.

"Because I also need you to understand that I'm not going to try and start anything with her."

"And why not?" Klaus asked. "If you really do care for her."

"Because she deserves better," was Ezra's immediate response. "Because she's a goddess and I'm an asshole. And because I'm broken."

Klaus turned around and narrowed his eyes at the sincere expression on Ezra's face. "You're not-"

"I am," Ezra said firmly. "Sirena broke me, and we all know it. Your sister," he added, "deserves better than me. She deserves someone who can devote his entire heart and soul to her. And that's not me. I don't have much of a heart left to speak of, and my soul's not doing that much better." He shook his head, eyes downcast. "She deserves better," he repeated.

Klaus opened his mouth to disagree and had to actually bite his tongue to keep the words from coming out. What the hell was he doing, instinctively trying to convince Ezra that he was in fact worthy of courting Rebekah? Even as he thought about it and thought about how he should be relieved to learn that Ezra had no intention of trying to pursue Rebekah...it didn't feel right. It felt like he was missing something important or letting something slip through his grasp.

He didn't like the feeling, so he just shook his head. "We can talk about it later," he told Ezra, even though he knew that neither of them would broach this topic of conversation again anytime in the immediate future. "Go get some rest. And for the love of God," he added, "put some pants on!"

Ezra just rolled his eyes and jogged past Klaus and up the stairs, casually flipping him off as he disappeared down the hall and returned to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo...yeah, that stuff happened. XD Seriously, though, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Drop me a review if you've got a second and let me know how you felt about everything! Are you relieved to see that Ezra came back? Are you glad that Klaus is not overreacting about the kiss? Are we still wishing an awful painful death on Sirena? Are you wondering why on earth Zoe is at a tattoo parlor? Anything you liked/didn't like, let me know! I love hearing from you guys. :D
> 
> I would also like to take a moment to let everyone know that while I do my best to adhere to the original canon of the show (I admittedly fail spectacularly at certain times), there are very definitely certain plot points that I will ignore/change (looking at you 3x19 *shakes fist*) in the future. Those of you who have been following this story for this long are probably aware of my tendency to toss canon material out the window to suit my own purposes and this is no different. XD Basically, that stuff where Cami and Davina are killed off? Permanently? Yeah, that won't be happening in this fic or in any of its sequels. Like, seriously. Not. Happening. Ever. Davina will be coming back in this fic as per canon, and after that she's sticking around, because I have big plans for her in my intended sequel to this story. And Cami is definitely not going to die because I am a hardcore Klamille shipper, and I want to give her and Klaus the happy ending together that they deserve. And...yeah, I think that takes care of my rant for the day. Carry on, everyone! ;)


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everyone's been wanting some more Zolijah goodness, so here you have it: a little bit of plot, followed by some very endearing domestic fluff. The chapter itself is fairly short, but overall it's a nice bit of lightness in the middle of everything else that's going on. Hope you like it!

**Chapter 59**

" **A scar is a tattoo with a better story."**

* * *

The tattoo artist's name was Devyn, and he had piercings in so many places that he sparkled like a disco ball whenever he turned and caught the light in a certain way.

He was actually fairly attractive, but since my tastes ran as "Elijah" and this guy fell under the heading of "not Elijah", I could appreciate his physical appeal but didn't really have any actual interest whatsoever, even as Devyn gave a suggestive wink as he tried to get me to get some "intimate inking" done. Since my idiotic heart was set on one very particular suit-wearing vampire, I gently rebuffed him and redirected his attention to what I _was_ interested in: a sketchbook displaying some recent design requests he and his employees had done. Several of the sketches and outlines had designs similar to the mark I'd seen on the body of the motel clerk.

"Were these requested by the same person?" I asked Devyn, running my fingers lightly across the page that showed a whip of thorns wrapped around a roaring tiger.

"Nope," Devyn replied, tapping his fingers lightly on the edge of the table. "They were all done by the same artist, though, so if that's the kind of design you're looking for-"

"Do you have his contact information?" I asked sharply, cutting him off.

Devyn looked briefly unsettled by my intensity then flashed another bright smile. "He quit a couple weeks ago, but I can probably find an old phone number or something, sure."

"That would be great, thanks," I answered, then did my best to wait patiently as he went into a little back room and shuffled through some papers.

Devyn returned a moment later, a manila folder held loosely in his long fingers. "I normally wouldn't go handing out persona information like this, but that Bernard guy was such a dick those last few weeks that I can't bring myself to feel guilty."

"He was acting strangely?" I asked with a frown as I took the folder he held out to me me. "How so?"

"Just angrier than usual, like he hated being here and had better thing to do with his time. Kept going on about his girlfriend and how classy she was, how she wouldn't be caught dead coming into a dump like this and that he should follow her example." Devyn shook his head. "I was relieved when he quit, to be honest. He was a good artist, but a pain in the ass to work with."

"I see," I murmured. Then I flipped open the folder to inspect the photo of Bernard and I really _did_ see.

The guy was average-looking at first glance, no memorable features that would make him stand out in any way...except for the very unique tattoo along the side of his neck.

It was a perfect match for the symbol that had been inked into the corpse form the motel.

And with the better resolution on this photograph, I could finally see what the entire sigil looked like; it was a snake curled within an apple, which was in turn encircled by thorns. I still couldn't be sure if this Bernard had any connection to Sirena, but at least I could say for sure that he was involved in the motel murder.

All I had to do now was track him down.

It would have to wait, though. I'd promised Klaus that I'd get home as soon as possible; traipsing all over town looking for this Bernard guy would take several more hours at least, and I doubted that fit _anyone's_ definition of 'as soon as possible'.

So I thanked Devyn again for his help, gave a noncommittal response to an invitation to drop by again sometime, and then I was on my way back to the Abattoir.

I arrived to find the place mostly deserted, with only a handful of Marcel's daywalkers around. "Is Klaus still around?" I asked one of them, because I wanted to have a long overdue conversation with him about werewolves and the parts of our culture he seemed unfamiliar with.

But apparently that conversation would have to wait, because "He left a few minutes ago," the vampire told me. "Went to go check up on his human pet or something."

I bristled a bit at the 'human pet' remark but refrained from snarling at him. "Thanks for your help," I said flatly, then pushed past him and went upstairs to find my brother.

I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when I found him, since he'd muted our connection so that I couldn't sense much from him other than the fact that he was still alive.

I was pleasantly surprised with what I found, though. My brother was in his room, sleeping. In human form and everything. I'd been so worried that this would be it; this would be the time he'd go wolf and not come back to me again. It had been twice as terrifying because I'd known that there was nothing in the world I could do to stop it if it came to that. I'd had no choice but to occupy myself with something else and pray that my brother came home.

And through some miracle, he had.

He stirred a bit in his sleep as I approached, but didn't wake up, just rolled over and burrowed his face deeper into his pillow. He looked so adorable like that, and I couldn't help but smile and ruffle his hair lightly. He mumbled something unintelligible at the touch but otherwise gave no reaction other than a light snore.

Content that my brother was doing okay, I slipped out of his room and headed to the kitchen. I hadn't eaten since the day before because of appetite-killing anxiety, but now that things had settled down a bit I realized that I was _starving._

Once in the kitchen, however, I came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Elijah wearing just jeans and a t-shirt while squeezing some oranges for fresh juice.

It was just so unexpected that my brain seemed to almost shut down for a moment. And I don't think it was even that Elijah Mikaelson, an Original vampire who didn't need to eat food or drink anything but blood, was making fresh-squeezed orange juice. It was that he was _dressed casually_ while doing so.

No, really, it was bizarre. He looked good, of course, because he always looks good. It was just different for me, seeing him in jeans and a Doctor Who shirt, when I was accustomed to dress shirts and suit jackets.

He did look really amazing, though.

"Good morning, Zoe," Elijah said when he spotted me hovering in the doorway. He looked surprised to see me but just a little bit pleased, too, although I tried not to read too much into it. "Would you care for some juice?" he asked, holding out the glass pitcher.

"Sure," I said automatically, making myself go and retrieve a glass from the cupboard. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome," he replied, pouring the juice into my glass before returning to the pile of orange halves in front of him. "How is your brother doing? Niklaus mentioned that he'd returned."

"He's doing fine," I answered, taking a sip of my juice and grinning a little as it turned out to be ridiculously delicious. "He's resting right now."

Elijah nodded. "That's good."

"Mm-hmm."

Silence settled in around us, but for once it wasn't strained and awkward. It felt...comfortable, sitting there in the kitchen with him. Familiar, as if we'd done this before countless times. And when I finally finished my juice and moved to the cupboard again to fetch a frying pan, Elijah pitched in without comment by retrieving some eggs and bacon from the fridge. He passed them over to me with an easy smile, and I found myself ensnared by the warmth in his eyes.

"Th-thanks," I stammered, taking the eggs and setting them aside while I tossed the bacon into the pan.

"You're quite welcome," he said again, still smiling that soft smile that made my heart jump all over the place. "Would you like me to make you some toast?"

My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the spatula I was holding. What was _wrong_ with me? "Uh, n-no, that's okay," I told him hastily. "I don't want to put you to any trouble-"

"It's no trouble," Elijah said firmly, and proceeded to pop two slices of bread into the toaster. "You need to eat a good meal and I don't mind helping."

No, I realized, he really didn't mind. Elijah was a caretaker at heart it seemed, the sort of person who devoted himself to and excelled at looking after others. I wasn't sure if it was the older brother in him or if that was just another facet of his personality, but I found it unbelievably endearing.

And so we bustled about the kitchen together, moving around each other with a comfortable familiarity that should have taken years to develop. It was a surprisingly nice feeling, sharing that little domestic moment with him. It made some knot of tension in my chest loosen and ease, as if this sort of tranquility was what I'd been searching for my entire life but never found.

And who knows, maybe it was. I honestly wasn't sure of the last time I'd had that feeling of peace. Of home. The last memory I had of being in a kitchen and feeling so at peace was from my childhood. I'd been about six or so, and I'd been helping my mother make blueberry pancakes for my father and Ezra. _Our boys_ , my mother had always called them. I'd delighted in the process as only a little girl cooking with her mother can. I'd ended up with flour in my hair and buttermilk soaked into the front of my little flower-print dress, but I hadn't minded and my mother hadn't seemed bothered by the mess at all, either. _Living well can be messy sometimes_ , she'd told me. _But that doesn't make it any less satisfying._

The pancakes had, of course, been absolutely delicious.

And when Elijah and I finished with the bacon, eggs, juice, and toast, I wasn't at all surprised to discover that the breakfast we'd made together was fantastic, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Well, well, well?! How was it? Did you like? Not like? Drop me a review and let me know! I adore all the comments you guys always have, and since this is the story's first bit of genuine fluffiness (sort of), I'm curious to see how it's received. ;)


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really glad you all enjoyed that bit of fluff in the last chapter; I had fun writing it, so I'm glad it was fun reading it, too. ;) For this chapter, we're moving back to actual plot stuff, but there are still a few small Zolijah moments here and there. As well a little moment where Ezra's a Shipper On Deck for Zolijah. ;)
> 
> Also, in celebration of this story's 60th anniversary, so to speak, I'm posting a video trailer I made for Inevitable on my tumblr account, yuzukimist. Come check it out! :D It's nothing terribly impressive, just something I threw together last week; it's mostly Zolijah and EzBekah, with some Klamille at the end. ;)

**Chapter 60**

" **That was how dishonesty and betrayal started, not in big lies but in small secrets."**

* * *

My brother and I spent about two and a half hours playing Monopoly the next morning, as we waited for Klaus, Cami, and Marcel to return from the re-opening of St. Anne's church that Cami's uncle Kieran had been working so hard for all this time.

I was moving my cat-shaped token across Boardwalk and about to Pass GO when a loud shout of alarm from outside caught my attention. Ezra and I exchanged worried looks before darting across the courtyard and out into the street.

Imagine our immense shock when we saw Papa Tunde laying dead in the middle of a magic circle, his eyes staring sightlessly upwards as the stench of his blood hovered in the air.

"Well," I said after a moment of protracted silence as we all just sort of stared at the dead warlock in his blood-soaked suit. "This changes things a little."

"Someone call Marcel and Klaus," Ezra ordered, approaching the body but being careful not to cross the circle surrounding it.

"Why should we do anything _you_ say?" Diego challenged.

Ezra gave a faint scowl and closed his eyes as if praying for patience. "Because one of our enemies is lying dead outside our door. Because that enemy was a ridiculously powerful warlock who was capable of capturing and sucking energy _from an Original_. Because whoever killed him and left him here had to have been more powerful than he was. Because that person is probably _not_ on our side, seeing as they've dumped a corpse on our doorstep. And," Ezra added with deliberate emphasis, "because I will personally beat the shit out of you if you don't take out your phone _right now_ and call Klaus." He opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, eyes shining wolf gold. "Are those reasons good enough for you?"

Diego swallowed nervously, the sound distinctly audible as he took an involuntary step back. He hesitated only a moment longer, then whipped out his cell phone and stepped off to the side to make the call.

I silently applauded my brother's display of pseudo-leadership; it wasn't often that he exercised the innate authority that came with his wolf nature and strong personality, but it was always impressive to see. He'd also just clued in Diego to our werewolf blood, but I found that I wasn't terribly troubled by that. The Mikaelsons already knew, after all, and they were the ones I'd been so worried about to begin with. Besides, it's not like our uncle didn't already know where we were; keeping our true identities a secret would be more trouble than it was worth at this point. We might as well just take our chances.

Besides, Ezra had been intermittently lurking around the compound as a wolf the last few weeks, and while the vampires of New Orleans weren't always the brightest of bulbs they weren't quite _that_ dense. It was hard to _not_ notice a massive wolf, so our hidden heritage had been more of an open secret than anything, really.

In any case, the call to Klaus was short and to the point, and after a few minutes Diego hung up and gave us a curt nod. "He and Marcel are on their way back. They're going to pick up Elijah on route, and Rebekah will be coming not far behind them."

"Sounds good," I replied, flashing him a thumbs-up I didn't really feel before going to join my brother at the edge of the magic circle. "Anything interesting?" I asked him.

"You tell me," he said, giving a shrug. "Whoever did this didn't leave much for us to go on. There are some residual traces of magic, but nothing major. The person responsible was good enough to cover their tracks."

I knelt down and reached out my magical senses, but ultimately had to come to the same conclusion. "Alright," I said after a moment, bracing my elbows on my knees as I continued to survey the scene, "well, the Mikaelsons will be here soon, and maybe they'll have some idea of who could be behind this. Maybe another old rival of theirs has rejoined the land of the living or something." I stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. "In the meantime, let's head back inside and finish our game. I was about to buy up the Railroads and bankrupt you."

* * *

Ezra let his sister drag him back inside and to the Monopoly table, but even as he rolled his dice and moved his token (and ended up in Jail; typical) his mind was running over all the possibilities for how Tunde had ended up dead and dumped outside the Abattoir.

In the end, Zoe did bankrupt him and claim dominion over the board, and before Ezra could automatically demand a rematch, the Mikaelsons arrived with Camille in tow. Klaus's bartender beau took one look at the body then turned to Klaus.

"I hope you don't mind if I wait inside," she said to him. "I don't mind the blood or the body, I just..."

"It's fine," Klaus assured her, squeezing her hand gently. "I think Hayley could probably use some company; she's been sulking about the last couple days."

Cami gave a small smile and a nod then disappeared inside the compound, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the air before diminishing as she went upstairs.

Elijah, meanwhile, had paused briefly to speak to Zoe, but was now kneeling down beside the circle much as Ezra and his twin had done earlier, peering intently at the body.

"Can I get you anything, brother?" Klaus asked, giving his brother an exasperated yet amused look as he went about his detective work. "A magnifying glass, a pipe perhaps?"

Elijah glanced up at his brother. "You have a theory you'd like to share with us, Niklaus?"

"Back in the day," Marcel remarked, speaking before Klaus could give his own answer, "when the witches wanted to send a threat, they'd just kill a chicken and leave it on your doorstep."

Elijah turned his gaze back to Papa Tunde's body with pursed lips. "It's a rather large and ominous chicken, wouldn't you say?"

Klaus didn't look particularly happy about of it. "Papa Tunde defeated Rebekah with ease, almost got the two of us as well," he pointed out. "If he was supposed to be the prize fighter, why leave him for dead in our front yard?"

"If it is a warning," Ezra commented, "it's an effective one."

"And yet you don't look terribly intimidated," Klaus observed.

"Do I ever?" Ezra drawled.

Klaus snorted.

Zoe wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I don't know if this was meant as a warning," she said uncertainly. "I mean, obviously it was in the dump-the-body-by-our-home way, but I don't...think that's all there was to this."

Marcel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she said slowly, "if the goal was to send a warning, any dead body would have gotten the message across. Honestly, the body of someone we cared about would probably be more effective. One of the humans under your protection for example, or maybe even someone like Cami's uncle, who isn't quite involved with us but close enough for his death to hurt and throw us off our game."

"So why kill someone who we're happy to have dead," Elijah concluded.

"Exactly," Zoe agreed, flashing him a grin that said she was pleased he'd caught on. "We all wanted Tunde dead, and they've delivered us _exactly_ what we wanted." She chewed on her lip. "Since I doubt their goal is to make us happy, they must have had some other reason for why it was Tunde, and not just some other person."

No one looked happy at this pronouncement, and they all remained stuck in a silent gloom until Rebekah breezed in a few minutes later.

"Well, don't you all look cheery," she remarked, then plowed on before any of them could speak. "Listen to this," she said. "A girl literally exploded from a grave today as Sabine was giving a tour of the city of the dead. It was Monique Deveraux."

Klaus looked like someone had smacked him upside the head. "What?"

"That isn't possible," Zoe said, looking faintly alarmed. "Dead people do not come back to life."

Klaus gave her a look. "Says the werewolf-witch who, along with your twin, can't be killed. Whose uncle has, in fact, revived a dead man to hunt you down. While in the presence of vampires."

Zoe stuck her tongue out at him. "You know what I mean," she grumbled.

"The tourists thought it was part of the show," Rebekah went on, coming over to stand beside Ezra, "but the witches are celebrating like it's some kind of bloody miracle."

"Maybe it is," Marcel said, looking more alive than he had since he'd lost Davina. "They think that all hope is lost, but now suddenly a Harvest girl is resurrected. This is how we're gonna get Davina back," he finished intensely, his voice shaking with emotion. "Kill the witch who took her place."

"We have a theory on who it might be," a familiar voice called out from upstairs.

Ezra craned his head around and saw Hayley descending the stairs with Cami following not far behind; apparently the two had been comparing notes on the latest development and had come up with something. Ezra couldn't help notice, though, the aggravated look that passed across Zoe's face at the sight of Hayley. His sister, it seemed, still wasn't the pregnant werewolf's biggest fan. Not surprising, he figured, given how she was (seemingly unwittingly) stuck in a pseudo-love triangle with Hayley and Elijah. Not that there there seemed to be much action going on between Elijah and Hayley at the moment; things between the two had gotten notably frosty as of late, and as Zoe's brother who wanted her to be happy, Ezra couldn't help but be pleased at that. Maybe Elijah would finally realize that Zoe, with her fierceness and her loyalty, would be a better match for him than Hayley ever could be.

But that wasn't what he needed to be focusing on now. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"It's Celeste," Hayley was saying. "I mean, it's got to be. Davina was trying to tell us," she added, holding up a handful of papers. "She was drawing pictures of Celeste. She was warning us that a great evil is coming."

A moment of heavy silence as they all digested that.

At last, Klaus turned to his brother. "First, Papa Tunde returns to settle old scores, now your murdered lover is back. This isn't witches attacking vampires," he concluded. "They're declaring war on _us_."

* * *

I didn't know how to feel about our latest discovery. Our new enemy was...Elijah's old girlfriend. And we'd discovered this thanks to Hayley, who was clearly still harboring feelings of a more than platonic nature towards Elijah. _My_ Elijah, my wolf half insisted, and I was too frazzled to debate the point with myself right then.

On the plus side, at least my brother wasn't alone in old girlfriends coming back for revenge. Granted, Elijah's ex hadn't kidnapped him and strung him up to torture, but still.

In any case, I somehow got roped in browsing the liquor selection with Rebekah following the tail end of our conversation about witches coming back from the dead and wreaking havoc in the Big Easy. Elijah, for whatever reason, had followed us into the den, his expression inscrutable.

Rebekah, for her part, didn't seem put off by her brother's impressive poker face, just dedicated all her attention to the various high end alcohols sitting in the fancy cupboard. "It's not too early for scotch, is it," she asked lightly, "with all the witchy shenanigans and subterfuge afoot?"

Elijah's expression went from unreadable to faintly exasperated. "It is entirely too early if one intends to drive, yes."

"Funny," Rebekah replied, "I don't have plans to go anywhere." She grabbed two glasses, poured generous amounts of scotch into each, and handed one to me before going to recline on an elegant little couch that seemed to have cushions made of actual velvet. "Zoe and I were thinking of have a nice little girls' night. Drink a bit, watch some old movies."

"Don't be ridiculous," Elijah said. "You need to take Hayley back to the plantation house, so she'll be safe and away from this madness."

"Oh my God," I couldn't help but blurt out, "seriously?" I set my glass down on the edge of a low bookcase. "Everything is going to hell in a hand-basket and you're worried about _Hayley_?" I couldn't help but give a snort of derision. "For crying out-loud, Elijah, we have bigger concerns than Hayley right now. Like the numerous witches and warlocks who want to kill us dead and dance on our corpses."

Elijah looked equal parts confused and wounded, like he'd expected me to take his side and didn't quite understand why I hadn't. "Hayley is pregnant," he said, eyebrows slanting down in an intense frown. "And she's mortal. Vulnerable. Out of all of us here, she is in the most danger." He shook his head and turned back to Rebekah. "She's not safe here. You have to take Hayley to the plantation house until this is all over."

"I fail to see why she'd be more safe there compared to here," I argued, cutting off Rebekah before she could answer her brother. "There are plenty of vampires here to keep an eye on her. Out on the plantation she'll be in a much less secure area, with considerably less protection. And she doesn't need that much protection anyway!" I added in annoyance. "She's not the target of these attacks, you and your brother are."

"And we've already established that an effective attack would be aimed at those close to us rather than us ourselves," Elijah replied doggedly. "Hayley, _as the most vulnerable_ , would be an ideal target."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I exclaimed in exasperation. "You keep saying how vulnerable she is, when she's really not. She's pregnant, not comatose! _And_ she's a freaking werewolf, Elijah, she's not defenseless."

Elijah clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. "I don't understand why you're being so unreasonable about this," he said to me.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Of course you don't."

Rebekah raised her eyebrows, glancing back and forth between me and Elijah. "Why do I have the feeling that this is conversation is somehow about more than just Hayley being safe?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," I said coolly, reaching for my previously abandoned scotch and downing it in one fiery gulp. "Clearly, all conversations revolve around Hayley by default. God forbid we actually devote our attention to something besides keeping the pregnant werewolf girl safe, even when everyone else is dropping dead around us. Or coming _back_ from the dead," I tacked on with a razor-edged smile. "Mustn't forget those pesky revivals. But no, you go ahead, focus on Hayley."

Elijah opened his mouth like he was about to argue with me some more, but Rebekah made a quick slashing motion with her hand, a look of faint realization crossing her face as she looked back and forth between us again. "I'll do it," she told her brother. "And you're coming, too," she added to me.

"What?" I squawked indignantly. "No, I'm not."

"Yes," Rebekah said firmly, "you are." She turned back to her brother. "Leave it to us." And then she was grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me from the room.

I considered digging my heels in and insisting I stay behind and not help her take Hayley to the plantation house, but in the end I decided to tag along after all. I had promised Klaus to try and look after Hayley, after all. Besides, if I stayed at the Abattoir, odds were I'd just keep needling Elijah and picking fights, and while doing so was satisfying in an odd sort of way, it probably wasn't really good for either of us right now, not when we needed to focus on the situation at hand.

So I let Rebekah drag me outside to her car; Hayley had gone out to pick up some maternity medications that her clinic physician had proscribed so we'd need to pick her up at the pharmacy. We would have left immediately, but Marcel pulled Rebekah aside before we left, his expression tight and anxious. I wouldn't have thought anything of it at all, to be honest, had he not taken her some distance away, just far enough so that they were out of my range of hearing. I wondered what was so extremely secret that Marcel couldn't risk it being overheard.

Whatever it was, Rebekah didn't look even remotely happy at what he was saying. There was some very fierce scowling and some emphatic head shakes and hand gestures. In the end, they must have come to an understanding about whatever it was, because Rebekah said something and Marcel nodded, then disappeared, zooming off with his vampire speed.

"What was that all about?" I asked casually as Rebekah rejoined me and we slid into her convertible.

"Oh, nothing," Rebekah replied, and her tone voice was just a little too light and bright to be believable, like she was trying to hard to be unconcerned. "Just Marcel being Marcel. Let's get going and pick up Hayley, shall we?"


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up where we left off last time, with some jealous!Zoe, and some more brotherly moments with Klaus and Ezra. Also, for those of you who follow me on tumblr or here on ao3, I've posted a couple new pictures to the Inevitable: Screenshots series, so check them out if you've got a second. ;) I'll be posting more "screenshots" coming up, too; I made a whole bunch of them and keep forgetting to post them, so...yeah. XD
> 
> In any case, enjoy the chapter! :)

**Chapter 61**

" **Start by doing what is necessary** **, then what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible.** "

* * *

I sulked during the entire car ride to the pharmacy to pick up Hayley. It wasn't very mature of me, I know, but I felt entitled to my pique. Hayley had once again managed to become the focus on everyone's attention, and it was getting old. And it wasn't even jealousy, at least not mostly. I just genuinely did not understand what it was about this wayward wolf girl that had everyone so dead set on keeping her safe. I mean, yes, she was an innocent, sort of, and yes, she was pregnant. Beyond that..it baffled me, this need she seemed to inspire in everyone around her, a need to go to any lengths to protect her, even despite her own selfishness and stupidity.

Okay, so maybe I was feeling a _little_ extra bitter because the vampire I was overly fond of had a soft spot for her. Sue me.

In any case, we made good time to the pharmacy and picked up Hayley, who slid into the backseat with a bright smile for Rebekah and a glare for me. I decided to ignore her completely, opting to focus my attention on fussing with Rebekah's radio settings instead, spinning the dials back and forth as I scanned the airwaves for a good song.

It was, I realized, going to be an awkward drive home. And an even more uncomfortable night of babysitting after that.

 _Why did I come to New Orleans again?_ Oh, right. For safety. I snorted. _Talk about a plan that backfired._ Not only had my brother and I not succeeded in blending in with the residents of the Big Easy, we'd managed to get ourselves mixed up with the most notorious supernatural family in all of recorded history.

Oh well. At least I had a roof over my head and a few people I could consider friends. Temperamental friends, but friends nonetheless.

 _I suppose_ , I thought to myself as I watched the scenery pass us by during the drive, _if the only cost I have to pay for this so far is babysitting a surly werewolf...that's not so bad._

I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the cost in the end would be so much higher than that, but for now I took a deep breath and focused on enjoying the drive home.

* * *

Ezra was deeply asleep when Klaus came charging into his room, and, because Klaus was now trusted implicitly by both his human and wolf halves, he didn't come awake until Klaus literally dragged him out of bed.

He came awake with a shout and flailed for a moment. Klaus tried holding onto him for a few seconds but in the end let him tumble to the ground in a tangle of sleep-heavy limbs and bedsheets.

"You suck," Ezra declared, his voice muffled by the comforter he'd face-planted in.

"I do," Klaus agreed with smirk, kneeling down to toss aside a pillow that had somehow ended up on Ezra's back during his little fall.

Ezra groaned and twisted to sit up. "What do you want," he grumbled, rubbing at his face tiredly. "I was asleep."

"And here I thought you were just doing mental gymnastics," Klaus remarked lightly, prodding him in the shoulder when it looked like he was about to fall back down onto the floor again.

Ezra swatted at his hand. "What do you want, asshole."

"I have a lunch date with Camille tomorrow, and I need your help with something."

"If you're already picking out a wedding ring," Ezra said warningly, "I will be morally obligated to thump you upside the head."

Klaus grabbed up the earlier-abandoned pillow and smacked him in the face with it. "Stop being stupid," he scolded. "As much as I like the girl, we're nowhere near that sort of commitment."

"Is it your immortality standing in the way," Ezra asked curiously, "or that fact that you're no-holds-barred insane?"

Klaus walloped him with the pillow again. " _Storme_ ," he growled, voice shaking from equal parts aggravation and amusement. "Will you please be serious?"

Ezra relented. "Okay, okay," he said at last. "Fine. I'm listening; what did you need?"

"Her uncle, Kieran," Klaus began, then frowned as if unsure how to continue.

Ezra, meanwhile, sat up a little straighter, letting the blankets wrapped around his shoulders fall away. "Kieran's the priest from that church, right? The one Davina was hiding away in. I was with Rebekeh when she first found it," he reminded Klaus at the vampire's curious look.

"Yes," Klaus said in answer. "He is. The church, as you know, just re-opened, and he's been hoping to use the goodwill of it to bridge the gap between himself and Camille."

"Bridge the gap?" Ezra echoed, scowling in confusion.

Klaus sighed. "Camille is currently very displeased with Kieran," he explained. "He wanted me to erase her memories of everything she'd learned since coming to New Orleans, everything that was keeping her here when she was in such great danger. She is understandably very unhappy about this."

Ezra narrowed his eyes at his best friend. "Tell me you didn't," he said in a low voice.

"I didn't," Klaus assured him, glancing away and then back again. "It was close, though. If your sister hadn't intervened when she did, the situation might have had an entirely different outcome."

Ezra blinked. "Wait, what?" He shook his head. "Zoe got involved with you and Cami?"

"She took exception to the idea of me messing around any more in Camille's mind," Klaus replied, giving a faintly guilty smile.

"Yeah," Ezra said dryly, "I can see how she would."

"In any case," Klaus said, "to get back to the point, Kieran wishes to reconcile with his niece, and I aim to help him achieve his goal."

Ezra arched an eyebrow. "And what brings about this benevolent bit of goodwill?"

Klaus feigned a wounded expression. "You say that like I'm not capable of being a nice person," he said in a hurt voice.

Ezra rolled his eyes. "I am not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Fair enough," Klaus conceded. "It hardly matters _why_ I want to do this, anyway; it only matters that I want it done, and you, being the good comrade that you are, are going to help me."

Ezra had a pretty good feeling that Klaus wanted to do this because he was at least halfway in love with Cami, but he decided against saying anything; Klaus probably already knew the depth of his feelings and was downplaying the situation for some reason. Probably an idiotic reason, but that was hardly Ezra's business. "Okay," he said with a sigh. "What did you need?"

Klaus gave a pleased look at his relatively easy acceptance. "Pick up Kieran from his church. Camille doesn't know it yet, but he'll be joining us for lunch."

Ezra frowned. "You do realize that surprises like that tend to backfire horribly, right?"

Klaus waved a hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous. Camille needs to mend things with her uncle, I'm simply facilitating said reconciliation. It'll be a shock for her to see her uncle when she was expecting a quiet meal between the two of us, but I'm sure she'll understand what I'm trying to do."

Ezra made a noncommittal sound. "Women don't generally like it when you turn a lunch date into a family meeting, Klaus."

Klaus crossed his arms in a way that was almost defensive. "You'll excuse me if I don't take romantic advice from the man whose lover ripped his heart from his chest," he snapped.

Ezra winced before he could stop himself, ducking his head and looking away even as he lifted a hand to rub at the scar on his chest. "Fair point," he whispered, trying to ignore the pain and sorrow and shame that were trying to claw up from the bottom of his soul and shred him.

He was about to jump to his feet and bolt from the room because the emotions swirling inside him were nasty and painful and he just needed some _air_...but then Klaus was there, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and yanking him into a rough and awkward embrace.

"I'm...sorry," Klaus said in a low voice, his voice hesitant as if apologies were uncomfortable for him. "That was...cruel of me."

Ezra growled at him a little, because fuck yeah, it had been cruel. Klaus _knew_ how fucked in the head he was about Sirena; slamming him with a comment like that was a hit so far below the belt it was practically crippling. But still, Klaus was his friend. His _only_ friend. Practically his brother. So there was really only one response he could give, in the end. "It's fine," he said gruffly, twisting to pull away. His wolf half craved the comfort received in the hug, but he knew that Klaus wasn't so touchy-feely and was probably uncomfortable with the tactile wolf behavior.

"No," Klaus said matter-of-factly, not releasing him. "It's not fine. It was cruel, and unnecessary. I'm sorry," he said again. "I can't seem to help it sometimes," he added.

"Help what?" Ezra grumbled. "Being a total asshole?"

Klaus snorted. "That, too."

Ezra huffed angrily. "It's fine," he said irritably, "I forgive you."

"Do you actually," Klaus asked curiously, "or are you just saying that so we can end this awkwardness hanging in the air?"

Ezra gave a light chuckle. "It's not awkward," he corrected. "It's just...uncomfortable. And I'm no stranger to discomfort," he tacked on absently, "so it really is fine."

Klaus pulled back to look at him intently. Then his gaze dropped to the scar marring Ezra's chest, his expression darkening. "She's going to pay for this," he said softly, reaching out to touch the scar lightly with the tips of his fingers.

Ezra flinched back automatically from the contact, but managed to give a thin smile. "I know," he said.

"I'm serious," Klaus said, and the look on his face _was_ deathly sincere. "If I have to track her down to the ends of the earth and rip her into pieces myself, she's going to pay for what she did to you."

Ezra sighed, even as Klaus's words settled deep in his chest with an unexpected sort of warmth. "You sound like Zoe," he said.

"Of course I do," Klaus answered, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world and didn't need to be commented on. "We're of exactly the same mind when it comes to that old girlfriend of yours."

Ezra snorted. "Why do I feel like the two of you united in anything should be absolutely terrifying?"

Klaus just gave a wicked grin. "I haven't the slightest idea."

Ezra gave him a disbelieving look. "Uh-huh. Sure." Shaking his head, he moved to stand. "I need to run a couple errands for Zoe tomorrow morning," he told his friend, "but I can pick up Kieran after. That okay?"

"Perfect," Klaus said, standing up as well and clapping him on the shoulder. "My thanks to you."

"You won't be thanking me when Cami drags you over the coals for bringing her estranged uncle to your date," he said dryly, "but sure, you're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is that every time I put Klaus and Ezra together in a chapter, they inevitably eat up the entire thing? Like, that was supposed to be a basic conversation and then I was going to switch the viewpoint back to Zoe for when Hayley decides to throw a party and invite her werewolf relations...and yet somehow it turned in a Klezra chapter? XD
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will involve Hayley throwing a werewolf party and Kieran being cursed. For the purposes of storytelling, I'm going to have the full moon be the night after Hayley suggests the idea, simply because I feel like you need more time to set up something like that, just from a logistics standpoint. Parties of that size don't just happen on a whim, certainly not when a bunch of werewolves are involved. So...yeah. Stay tuned for the next chapter! :) I should have the next chapter posted within a week as usual, even though I'm having some slight writer's block with the chapter I'm working on right now...It's Chapter 76 that I'm working on at least, at least, so my difficulties shouldn't affect my update schedule at all; I'm hoping to break through the block before it becomes a serious issue...shouldn't be hard since 76 isn't due to be updated for ~15 more weeks. XD
> 
> In any case, I hope you guys have a fantastic day/weekend!
> 
> (P.S.: Zolijah kiss countdown: 5 MORE CHAPTERS!)


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we catch up with Zoe and see what she's got going on. Mostly it's her dealing with how Hayley's decided to throw a werewolf party at the worst possible time, and then we switch back to Ezra for a bit to see how Mission: Pick Up Kieran For Lunch goes. ;)

**Chapter 62**

" **Life is crazy...unexpected things happen every day."**

* * *

"You what?" I said incredulously, unable to believe what I was hearing. "Why the hell would you want to throw a party tomorrow?"

"Think about it," Hayley insisted. "It's going to be a full moon tomorrow night."

I failed to see what that had to do with anything and just stared at her blankly.

Rebekah, likewise, looked entirely at a loss. "You're preggers," she reminded the other woman. "You can't turn."

"No, I can't," Hayley agreed, "but I wanted to invite a few people over. People _like me_ , if you catch my drift."

Ah. Now I understood. Since I wasn't beholden to the magic of the full moon, I'd forgotten its significance to the majority of the werewolf population. And how much more important that moon would be to Hayley's long lost relations.

A look of realization crossed Rebekah's face as well. "Of course," she said. "Every red-blooded American werewolf will be a bundle of fur and sharp teeth tomorrow night, whilst your cursed crescent clan will be-"

"Human," Hayley finished for her. "But only for the one night."

"I don't know if this a good idea," I interjected. "I thought we were supposed to be laying low? I don't think throwing a werewolf kegger is the best way of doing that."

Hayley spun around and pinned me in a fierce glare. "They're my family!" she snapped. "And they're only going to be human for a few hours! I won't have another chance until the next full moon! Besides," she added with a smug little smile, "I already asked Josh to get word to Eve out in the bayou."

I groaned and flopped down onto the couch. "Of course you did." The girl had no self-preservation instinct at all, I realized. It was a miracle she'd survived this long as a lone wolf.

Rebekah slanted me an unreadable look before turning back to Hayley. "Josh isn't dead yet?" she remarked, sounding faintly surprised. "Well, good on him. I love a good survival story."

There was no missing the fact that she'd not responded to Hayley's request at all.

"Rebekah," Hayley said pleadingly, clearly picking up on this, too. "Come on, we can do this. I want to meet my people and you love a good party. _Please_ help me with this."

Rebekah narrowed her eyes at the young werewolf then relented with a sigh. "Well, alright then. I suppose a little get-together couldn't hurt." She tapped a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "We'll need to make some preparations, though. Can't have a proper party without refreshments and music!" She reached out, grabbed Hayley by the hand, and hustled off towards the stairs. "Come on, let's make some calls."

I watched them go from my position on the couch. "We are so screwed," I said to no one in particular.

* * *

Ezra woke up the next morning feeling pretty decent. He'd gotten a good night's sleep, hadn't had a panic attack in a while, and was ready to tackle the day.

He quickly got dressed, and double-checked to make sure he still had the list Zoe had given him of things she wanted him to get for her; most of it seemed to be spell ingredients, which worried him a little. He wasn't sure how he felt about Zoe's suddenly rekindled interest in magic, not when she'd been so dedicated to staying away from using it for so long. But a promise was a promise, so he tucked the list into his pocket and called the automated bank menu to make sure he had enough funds to cover all of it.

The shopping itself didn't take long, and after a few hours he had bags full of various herbs, trinkets, and concoctions sitting in the trunk of his borrowed Subaru. Once he was positive he'd gotten everything on Zoe's list, he turned his attention to the next item on his To-Do List: Pick up Kieran from the church and deliver him to Klaus and Cami.

He still wasn't sure of the wisdom of such a move, but there was no denying that there was plenty Kieran and Cami needed to talk about. So he coasted through the city and parked on the street outside of St. Anne's.

The second he stepped out onto the sidewalk, though, a strange feeling prickled over his skin. After a moment of careful assessment, he realized it was magic. Bad, bad, _bad_ magic. He couldn't be sure, but the feeling seemed to be coming from the church. And it felt like poison and pain and madness, which couldn't possibly mean anything good was going on.

Heart pounding, he ducked back into his car, grabbed a few of the supplies he'd just purchased, and turned and raced up the stairs and into the church, pausing for a moment as he crossed the threshold from the wave of residual black energy that slammed into him as he stepped through the door.

 _What the hell happened here?_ he wondered. This feeling hadn't been here before, when he'd come with Rebekah. There had been residual energy then, but it had only tasted of things like blood and grief. This, though...this was different.

His contemplations ground to abrupt halt when he saw Father Kieran sprawled in an ungainly heap on the cold church floor.

"Kieran!" he shouted, his exclamation loud and reverberant in the high-ceiling church. He raced down the aisle and dropped to his knees beside the other man. "Father Kieran!"

The priest only groaned, the sound so full of agony that the wolf in Ezra stirred in discomfort, sensing the unnatural magic that driven the man into such a weak state. When the priest spoke, his voice was so thin that Ezra would have missed hearing it entirely if he hadn't had such keen ears. "Who...who's there..."

"It's Ezra," he told the priest. "Ezra Storme. Klaus sent me to pick you up for lunch with your niece," he added, fighting to keep his voice light and conversational as he patted down Kieran, looking for injuries. "And I hate to say it, but I think we're going to be a little late."

"Cami," Kieran breathed, his eyes glassy. "Cami..."

Ezra made a sound of frustration as he finished checking Kieran over; there were no visible injuries, no cuts or scrapes, no bruises or abrasions...there were no marks of any kind on his body. And yet the man practically reeked of black magic, so _something_ had to have happened.

"Cami," the priest murmured again, his eyes fluttering shut as he struggled to breathe.

Ezra pulled back and sat on his haunches, regarding Kieran with a baffled scowl. "What happened to you?" he asked, figuring that maybe just cutting to the chase would be the best course of action.

Kieran just gave another painful wheezing gasp and shuddered, shivering like he was freezing cold. "Bas...Bastiana," he choked out, hands clenching into fists as he trembled. "And...some...some other witch. Hex...Hexed me..."

Well, fuck.

It certainly exclaimed the bad mojo Ezra was sensing. The question now became, what could he do about it? Without knowing the specifics of the curse the witch had laid on him, Ezra couldn't do much in the way of breaking it. Maybe, though...just _maybe_ , he could stall it. Slow it down, until he could get Kieran to someone who could help.

He emptied his pockets and cast an eye over the things he'd brought in from the car. He had a small alabaster statuette of the goddess Eirene, a black onyx pendant, a small packet of agrimony, and a plastic bag that contained a mix of hemlock and fennel.

Oddly, it was precisely the combination of items he would have chosen anyway. Lucky break, that. Or maybe he'd subconsciously sensed what was going on inside the church before he'd raced up the steps and had grabbed the things he'd need. Either way, it was a stroke of good fortune and he sent a quick prayer of gratitude skyward before returning his attention back to Kieran.

"Father Kieran, can you hear me?" he asked, bending over the priest and peering at his face intently. "Can you understand what I'm saying to you?"

It took a moment, but eventually Kieran groaned and nodded, his body still trembling. "I can...I can hear you," he wheezed.

"Okay," Ezra said, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. "Good. That's good." He glanced at the items he'd set down, a plan already formulating in his mind. He wasn't as good as Zoe, but he was far from inexperienced with magic. With a little skill and no small amount of luck, he should be able to pull _something_ off. "I'm going to try and get this hex to ease up on you a bit, okay?"

Kieran's eyes flew wide open, a look of alarm crossing his ashen face. "N-no m-more magic," he stuttered, feebly trying to push Ezra away from him.

Ezra swatted his hands away. "Relax," he told the priest. "I know what I'm doing."

Kieran didn't look even remotely convinced. "No magic," he said, his voice emphatic despite being barely above a whisper. "Can't trust it."

Ezra snorted. "Trust _me_ , I'm aware. Look," he added, "I'm almost forty years old, man. And I've been exposed to magic and studying the intricacies of it since before I could talk in words more than two syllables long. I know what I'm doing."

Kieran's eyes narrowed in a suspicious glare. "What...what are you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ezra said wryly. "For now, let's just leave it at 'I'm the guy who's trying to save your life', okay? Sound good to you?"

Kieran remained silent for so long that Ezra began to worry that he'd somehow passed out with his eyes open. But then the priest took another shuddering breath and spoke. "Do what you can," he wheezed, swallowing hard. "I need...I need to speak with Camille before..." He closed his eyes as if in pain. "Just...before."

Before he died, Ezra realized. Shaking his head, he settled into a more comfortable position and reached for the agrimony and the onyx pendant. "I'll do my best," he promised the other man. "Just hang in there."

* * *

I wanted to scream. No, seriously.

I'd thought having magical assassins running me down was bad? Well, as it turned out, being the golden bounty for a psycho coven was absolutely _nothing_ when compared to planning a party for a bunch of werewolves I'd never met and honestly did not _want_ to meet.

And it wasn't just because I thought that it was a stupid idea to throw a kegger when we should have been circling the wagons and hunkering down.

No, it was the wolf in me that was most actively against this little bash we were whipping up. My wolf instincts made me intensely territorial among other werewolves. Hayley was a bizarre exception, presumably because she was pregnant and posed no real threat to me, wolf to wolf.

Klaus was also exempt from this territoriality, because he was the closest thing my brother and I had had to a real Alpha since our father had been killed. Klaus was family...our brother. Even though there was no blood relation, he was our brother. The brother we hadn't even known we'd needed, but the one we were grateful for, because even if your family was crazy, they were there for you when you needed them and even when things got insane it was better than not having any family at all.

These other wolves, though...I had no connection to them, nothing to prevent my wolfhalf from rearing up and ripping their throats out. I considered the plantation my territory, in a roundabout sense, and these other wolves from the bayou would be there tonight, trespassing and trampling all over the place and leaving unfamiliar scents all over everything.

Not to mention the fact that they'd all be looking at me out of the corners of their eyes and muttering about the freakish lone wolf female. A few might even try and challenge me, not realizing that the fact that I made it on my own was because I was more than capable of handing them their asses. And all that was before I even factored in the loud music and the drinking and the general stupidity that accompanied boisterous get-togethers.

This party was going to drive me utterly _insane_. I found myself wishing that Elijah would be there, because even if I was picking a fight with him, at least I'd be entertained and mildly comfortable in my own skin during the party. As it was, I was going to be miserable and cranky the whole time, and constantly one step away from bashing someone over the head with the nearest heavy object.

 _Why did I agree to this again?_ I wondered, then huffed out an angry sigh. _Oh, wait, that's right. I didn't._

* * *

Ezra finished his incantation and pressed the alabaster statuette into Kieran's hands with a few extra pleas for mercy and peace to the goddess Eirene that the figure portrayed.

It had taken him almost an hour, but with the help of the herbs he'd used and the pendant he'd slung around Kieran's neck, he'd managed to contain whatever hex the witches had put on him. He hadn't been able to _remove_ it, unfortunately; the black magic had dug itself in deep and wasn't letting go, but he'd managed to put in a barrier of sorts between Kieran's psyche and the most potent effects of the spell. It was more of a stop-gap measure than anything, and wasn't by any means a cure. But it was something.

Now all he had to do was figure out what the hell to do next.

He figured maybe giving Klaus and his bartender girlfriend a call might be a good idea. The only problem with that was...the Original hybrid wasn't answering his phone.

Ezra cursed under his breath in annoyance. _Trust him not to answer his damn phone when I actually need him for something_ , he thought blackly, although he had to admit to himself, Klaus was actually usually fairly reliable; he probably just had his phone turned off because he was having lunch with Camille and was likely making some sort of attempt at being polite and gentlemanly.

Under normal circumstances, Ezra would have approved. As it was, he was just aggravated. The timing of it couldn't possibly be worse. Then again, what exactly could he tell Klaus over the phone? _Hey buddy, guess what, I have your almost-girlfriend's uncle with me like I promised, but he got hit with a nasty hex before I got here and I think he might he about to lose his mind and implode?_ Yeah, he had a feeling that wouldn't go over so well.

Of course, now his only option was to toss Kieran into the backseat of his car and go meet up with Klaus and Cami. At the fancy restaurant. Where they were having a romantic lunch date. _Great._

 _This is shaping up to be just a fantastic day_ , he thought sarcastically, then heaved Kieran up off the ground and headed for the church entrance _. Can't wait to see what happens next._


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves the continuing drama of getting ready for a werewolf party and dealing with Kierna's curse. Also, there's a restaurant called Irene's Cuisine that makes an appearance in this chapter; it is actually a real restaurant in New Orleans, but I personally have never been to it, so anything said in regards to it within this chapter (like the place having a dress code and being expensive) is purely the workings of my own imagination because I needed a nice restaurant for Klaus and Cami's lunch date and I liked the look of the place; I say this disclaimer mostly because for the purposes of the story I needed a snobby maître d'/host-person, and I don't want to cast any negative aspersions against the real Irene's which is apparently full of friendly staff, so yeah. That being said; in real life it really does seem like an awesome place to go and if I'm ever in the Big Easy I intend to check it out. According to their website, the prices are $$$ (so maybe a bit pricey?) and attire is dressy casual. If there's anyone out there who's been there or has heard about it, I'd like to know what you think. ;)

**Chapter 63**

" **The pain that you've been feeling can't compare to the joy that's coming."**

* * *

Ezra drove with more care than usual as he wound his way through the midday New Orleans traffic. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over by a traffic cop, who would _probably_ notice that something was off when he saw the clearly-not-right Kieran prone in the backseat. And Ezra wasn't in the mood to deal with any more extra crap on this already unpleasant day.

So he obeyed the posted speed limits and dutifully ignored the assholes who honked at him in a futile attempt to get him to go faster.

"So," he said to Kieran as they sat waiting at an obscenely long stoplight, "is there any particular reason why the witches would come after you?"

Kieran just groaned, and then mumbled a few choice words about witches.

Ezra sighed. Clearly this was going to be a one-sided conversation. "Okay, then," he muttered. "Good talk."

Eventually, they reached their destination. Klaus had texted Ezra the restaurant's address earlier in the day, and when Ezra pulled up outside he couldn't help but scowl.

"Dammit, Klaus. You _would_ take her to the most fancy and expensive place on the street when I need to drag in someone who looks like roadkill," he griped, looking at the front door of Irene's Cuisine in undisguised trepidation. Even ignoring Kieran and the fact that the priest looked like death warmed over, Ezra himself was not exactly dressed for being seen at a fine dining establishment. Wearing a flannel shirt, biker boots, and jeans that had seen better days, it would be a miracle if the maître d' didn't bounce him right back out onto the street the minute he walked in the door.

"Oh well," he sighed. "Doesn't change what needs doing." So what if a snotty restaurant manager tried to bounce him; he was there for something important, literally a life and death situation.

So he took a deep breath, yanked Kieran from the backseat because he sure as hell wasn't leaving the guy waiting alone in the car in his current condition, slung the other man's arm around his shoulders, and began shambling towards the front of the restaurant.

As he'd expected, they didn't get very far past the entrance; a weaselly-looking man in a three-piece suit came bolting into their path almost immediately after they crossed the threshold.

"I'm very sorry...sirs," he said in a condescending nasal tone that instantly rubbed Ezra the wrong way, "but we have recently come under new management and adopted a new policy in regards to proper attire."

"Is that Asshole Speak for dress code?" Ezra asked blandly, giving the host an unimpressed look even as he tried to ignore the haughty stares being directed his way from the other patrons waiting to be admitted.

The host cast a scathing look over Ezra's appearance, curling his lip as his gaze drifted to the barely conscious Kieran. "We also have a very strict policy against serving to those already intoxicated," he said pointedly.

Ezra swallowed his growl. "He's not drunk," he told the host stiffly. "Had a bad reaction to something," he added through gritted teeth. "We're just here to meet with-"

"I am sorry," the host said again with a false smile, " _sir_. But I cannot allow you any further inside in your current state."

Ezra briefly considered dumping Kieran and the floor and jumping forward to strangle the host, but managed to rein in his temper. Barely. "And that's fine," he snapped. "I'm not here for a meal. We're just here to meet with my brother and his girlfriend, who just so happens to be _his_ ," he clapped Kieran on the shoulder, "niece."

The host just shook his head. "I can't let you in."

This time Ezra did growl. "It's a family emergency."

"I'm sorry," the host repeated, not looking sorry at all, "but our rules are here for a reason. I cannot make an exception."

Ezra opened his mouth to argue further, but Kieran chose that moment to make a choking sound and throw up all over the maître d's pristine suit. The look on the host's face would have been hilarious if Ezra had been in the laughing mood; as it was, he just snickered a bit before leaning to the side to see if he could somehow spot Klaus and Cami seated amongst the other diners crammed into the restaurant proper.

"That's enough," the host snapped, shaking in fury as bile and spit dripped down his chest and shoulders and stained his silk tie. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave. Immediately." He snapped his fingers and two musclebound guys in dress shirts emerged from a side room.

Ezra snorted. "You have bouncers. Actual bouncers. Of course you do."

"Leave immediately," the host said heatedly, "or be _escorted_ out."

 _Yeah, I'm done with this._ "Klaus!" he shouted. "Cami!"

The bouncers crossed the distance, grabbing at Kieran and trying to pull him away and drag him towards the entrance.

"Stop that," Ezra snarled, lashing out and punching one of the bouncers in the jaw and causing the massive man to stumble backwards, dropping Kieran. Then he raised his voice again. "Klaus!"

The second bouncer tackled into Ezra and they went crashing to hardwood floor, Kieran tumbling down to the ground because he was too weak to stand without help.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" a familiar voice said in annoyance.

Ezra glanced up from where he was pinning the musclebound bouncer in a choke-hold. "Hey, Klaus. About damn time you showed up," he complained, releasing the bouncer and moving to stand. "Sorry to interrupt your date," he added, noticing Klaus's intense glower, "but we sort of have a situation."

Klaus crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow, then finally noticed Kieran slumped on the ground. "What the...?"

"As I said," Ezra replied, going over and tugging Kieran back up off the floor. "We have a situation. Where's Cami?"

"Still at the table," he answered, turning around and heading back into the seating area. "I'll go fetch her."

"Hurry," Ezra called after him, before passing one last look to the maître d'. "I'm sorry, you were saying...?"

The host, pale and wide-eyed, just shook his head frantically. "N-nothing," he stammered. "It's nothing, sir. Please," he added shakily, "have a nice day." And then he bolted for a door marked Employees Only and dashed through without looking back.

Ezra smirked. "You, too."

* * *

I wrinkled my nose at the fourteenth keg of beer as one of the hired delivery workers hefted it up onto a table with the rest. "Is this much alcohol really necessary?" I asked disdainfully. "I mean, it's already a party with werewolves. On the night of a full moon. Must we add shameless intoxication into the mix?"

"You sound like Elijah," Rebekah complained. "All negativity and reason."

I scowled at her. "I do not sound like Elijah," I said irritably. "I'm just pointing out that maybe getting a bunch of emotionally volatile werewolves _who aren't used to being human anymore_ drunk isn't the best idea. Or even the best idea's distantly related half-cousin that no one talks to."

Rebekah snorted, glancing up at me from the appetizers she was arranging. "You're being utterly ridiculous," she said with a smirk. "It's just a little party for Hayley to get to know some of her long-lost relatives. What could possibly go wrong?"

I gave her a disbelieving look. "Well, now that you've said _that_ ," I said with an aggravated sigh, "only everything." Seriously. She was hundreds of years old. Surely she knew better than to say 'what could go wrong'. There was, in my experience, no better way of daring the universe to dump trouble right into your lap. Shaking my head, I left the expansive plantation backyard and went back inside to check on Hayley, who was currently upstairs and freaking out over what to wear.

"Why are all maternity clothes so freaking girly?" she complained I stepped into her room and stared in alarm at the storm of shirts and dresses strewn all over the place.

I went over to sort through a selection of halter tops. "You do realize that you can only wear one outfit, right?"

She gave me a peeved look. "Yeah, but it has to be the _right_ outfit. I need to make a good impression!"

I bit my tongue and refrained what saying the first thing that popped into my head, which was something along the lines of _Since when do you care about good first impressions?_ and instead said "Maybe don't wear this, then," and tossed aside a sleeveless cleavage-bearing cocktail dress covered in sequins. "You're a mother-to-be, after all."

"Good point," she muttered, and similarly discarded a number of equally risque outfits. "How about this?" she asked after a few more minutes of pawing through piles of clothing.

I glanced at the green blouse and pencil skirt combo she was holding up and sighed, wondering what alternate dimension I'd fallen into that had me and Hayley deciding on outfits together. "Too business-style," I said, shaking my head. "They're your family, not a college review board."

"But we've never met before," Hayley argued. "I want them to take them seriously."

"They're werewolves who have been living like savages in the bayou," I said in exasperation. "If you're trying to impress them, looking like a librarian is probably not going to cut it."

"Well, what do you suggest I do then?" Hayley demanded, throwing the clothes down angrily.

I rubbed my forehead tiredly; the party itself hadn't even started yet and already I was verging on a migraine. Wonderful. "Just...be yourself," I said after a moment, trying to be patient because I knew how important this night was to Hayley. "They're your family. They've been wanting to meet you just as badly as you want to meet them, right? So it's just equally awkward all the way around," I reasoned. "My advice is to just be yourself and take it from there. If they like you, great. If not, fuck 'em."

Hayley snorted. "That's...actually pretty good advice," she admitted reluctantly. "...Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied grudgingly, not entirely sure what to make of our weird little chick flick moment.

I didn't leave, though, even when the opportunity presented itself, and instead stayed with Hayley as she continued to agonize over what to wear. Somehow it transitioned into what would _I_ wear, at which point Rebekah joined us and everything became ten kinds of dress-up crazy.

I cursed as they descended upon me with a dress and make-up, a triumphant gleam in their eyes as they went to work.

* * *

"What the hell is happening to him?" Cami asked anxiously as she hovered over uncle, who had passed out during the car ride back to the Abattoir.

Some of the vampires had stared and muttered darkly as Ezra had taken Kieran upstairs to a guest room, but a snarl from Klaus had sent them scurrying for cover without further comment, and no one had bothered them since they'd gotten Kieran into bed.

"I don't know," Ezra said, taking Kieran's limp wrist in his hand and checking his pulse rate. "I found him like this at St. Anne's. He was pretty out of it," he went on, glancing over at Klaus, "but he did manage to tell me it was witches who did this. A hex, he said."

"And is it?" Klaus asked. "A hex, I mean."

Ezra sighed, setting Kieran's arm back down as he stepped aside to let Cami move closer to her uncle. "I'm not sure. It has all the earmarks of a nasty hex, but it _feels_ stronger. It might be an actual full-blown curse," he added in a low voice.

Klaus did not look happy at that pronouncement. "Can you break it?"

Ezra shook his head. "Probably not. I did an emergency block on the spell to keep it from destroying him immediately, but all that does is buy us time. Without more information, there's nothing anyone can do."

"How much time?" Camille asked, turning around to look at them with tears streaking down her face. "How long do we have to find a cure for this?"

"There's no way of knowing," Ezra answered. "If I knew what sort of hex or curse had been cast on him, I could make a guess, but with so little to go on..." He shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Cami, but there's not much I could do."

"Could Zoe fix it?" Cami asked desperately. "She fixed me! She could fix him, too, right?"

Ezra opened his mouth and then closed it, considering.

"Well?" Klaus said.

Ezra heaved a sigh. "I don't know," he admitted at last. "It's possible, I guess, but I don't know. Honestly, when it comes to breaking curses, Zoe and I are about tied in terms of experience. She has more brute force behind her magic, so to speak, but she's not so great at things that require delicate work. And fixing vampire compulsion and fixing a curse are two entirely different things. Undoing a curse this complex," he went on, gesturing to Kieran, "is delicate work. The spell has wound its way into his mind and soul, and it will be incredibly difficult to dig it out without harming him further."

"But could she do it?" Camille pressed. "Could either of you do it?"

"I don't know," Ezra repeated. "We need more information," he said defensively when Klaus stepped toward him with a glare. "Okay? If I try anything right now, with no idea of what I'm up against, I might just make things worse."

"But how do we figure out what spell they used on him?" Cami asked desperately. "The witches sure as hell won't tell us!"

"No," Ezra agreed, "they won't. But Kieran will know," he added. "He'll have heard the incantation the witch used. If I know the incantation, I can work on it from there."

"That's a wonderful idea," Klaus said sarcastically. "Except for the part where the witness is unconscious and not capable of sharing that crucial bit of information with us!"

"So wake him up," Ezra said flatly.

Camille's eyes widened in alarm. "But...he's in so much pain!"

Ezra arched an eyebrow. "So you'd rather he be unconscious and about to die than awake with a hope to live?"

Camille flushed. "That's not what I said," she snapped angrily. "I just..."

"He's right, love," Klaus said, going over to wrap an arm around her shoulders in comfort. "It will be difficult, but this might very well be our only chance to save him. Don't you think that's worth a few moments of pain?"

"I..." Camille blinked rapidly, tears spilling down her cheeks again. "I don't want him to die," she said in a choked voice. "He's the only family I have left."

"So let me try and save him," Ezra told her. "I can't guarantee his survival, but I swear to you that I will do everything I can to get him through this. Okay?"

Camille swallowed hard, and the tension in the room climbed higher and higher as they waited for her answer.

"Okay," she said at last, her voice just above a whisper. "Wake him up. Let's ask him what happened."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we'll be getting to the actual party soon, I promise. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Drop me a review and let me know what you liked/didn't like. And if you're interested in seeing what the front of the real Irene's Cuisine looks like, I'm posting a picture of it on my tumblr and as an addition to the Inevitable: Screenshots series here on Ao3. Check it out if you're curious! In general: I'm going to try to post screenshots more often, at least once a week with chapter updates, so if you want to see them, make sure to follow me on tumblr or subscribe to the Inevitable: Screenshots series on Archive of Our Own. ;D
> 
> Anyway, what else is there for me to say...Ah! That's right: Zolijah Kiss Countdown: 3 more chapters!  
> Also, the next chapter, 64, will involve Ezra doing magic and Zoe getting dolled up for the party. :)


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will maybe come across having some mood whiplash. It starts off with Zoe just before the party, then transitions into Ezra and Klaus trying to save Kieran, so just be aware that the tone is pretty different for those two viewpoints and that might throw you off a bit.
> 
> Also, the parts with Ezra involve some magic rituals and stuff; I relied on Wiccan magic for these parts, since Ezra (as Zoe mentioned briefly in a previous chapter and as Ezra himself states later on in this chapter) identifies as Wiccan in regards to practicing magic, unlike Zoe who is more of a sorceress. I'm not Wiccan personally or overly knowledgeable about Wiccan beliefs or practices, but I did do some research for this chapter, so hopefully it's moderately accurate and doesn't offend anyone.

**Chapter 64**

**"The Moon has awoken, with the sleep of the Sun, the Light has been broken, the spell has begun."**

* * *

I fiddled with the hem of my dress nervously. I wasn't entirely sure how it had come about, but somehow Rebekah and Hayley had teamed up and stuffed me into an (admittedly gorgeous) green cocktail dress that managed to cling to my body like a flattering second skin.

They'd originally wanted to put me into a golden number with white lace, but had then changed their minds at the last minute, opting for a dress that would complement my eyes. I'd never put much effort into wearing things that brought out my 'natural colors', whatever the hell that meant, but there was no denying the fact that the green of my dress drew extra notice to the green of my eyes.

Add in the thick black eyeliner and mascara Rebekah had made me put on and the golden eyeshadow Hayley had brushed onto my eyelids, and I seemed to resemble a strange cross between a forest goddess and a magazine ad. Throw in the ridiculous golden gladiator heels they'd forced me into, though, and I looked like a battle nymph from some MMORPG.

I _did_ enjoy being dressed up, though, even though it took me well outside my comfort zone of jeans and ratty old t-shirts. It was...nice, to be able to wear a different skin, to pretend I was someone different, someone better, from the usual Zoe Storme.

That I looked totally kick-ass, of course, also helped.

* * *

"I need some air," Cami said after they had listened to everything Kieran was able to tell them. "I just...I need a minute. Alone," she added, when Klaus moved to stand up and follow her. "Okay? I just...I need a second to get myself together."

Klaus looked hurt, but nodded. "Whatever you need, love," he said tightly. "Take your time."

Camille gave him a tearful smile and then dashed out the door.

Klaus stood there for a moment, until the sound of her hurried footsteps mingled with the rest of the foot traffic outside in the Quarter. Then he heaved a sigh and sat down. "Please tell me you have an idea," he said to Ezra.

Ezra chewed on his lips thoughtfully, running over in his mind what Kieran had told them.

 _Toursion fou, mort de l'espirit_ , the witch had said when she'd cursed Kieran. Ezra couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure the spell had something to do with driving a person crazy and killing their soul. He and Zoe had come across something similar, when they'd drifted through a backwoods town in Illinois where superstition and family feuds had reigned supreme. Needless to say, he and Zoe had gotten the hell out of dodge before they'd gotten too involved, but at least it gave him a frame of reference for what he was up against.

If he was right, though, this hex really did need to be stopped sooner rather than later; if left to incubate in Kieran too long, the magic would eventually affect him permanently, damaging his mind beyond repair.

 _But hey_ , Ezra thought dryly, _no pressure._ "I have a few ideas," he said to Klaus. "And it'll be tricky no matter what, but...we have a chance to save him, I think. Hopefully."

Klaus looked at him carefully, assessing. "Are you sure you can do this? Because we can call Zoe if you'd prefer."

Ezra shook his head. "No," he said emphatically. "We don't need Zoe. Besides," he added, "I don't want to have her use more magic if she doesn't absolutely have to."

"You're worried about her losing control," Klaus realized.

"A little," he admitted. "But as far breaking this curse goes, I seriously don't need the help. It's a job for one practitioner; a second magician around will just mess things up."

"I'll take your word on it," Klaus replied. "Now, what do you need? I assume you can't just wave your hands over the man and cure him."

Ezra gave a faint smile. "You assume correctly," he agreed. "I need a few things."

"Name them," Klaus said immediately.

"A small mirror, a white candle, a cup of water, and a small bowl of natural salt to start," he said, rattling off items without hesitation. "Also some incense; preferably citron or cypress but anything will do."

Klaus arched a brow. "That everything?"

"No," Ezra replied promptly. "That's just everything I need to consecrate the mirror. I also need a bowl of black salt, and something to represent Bastiana. And then we'll need some hyssop, rue, vetivert, basil, and more salt for a purification bath afterward."

Klaus now stared at him like he was a total stranger. "That's quite the list," he said after a moment.

Ezra shrugged. "If I'm really going to do this, I'm going to do it right. And I'm no powerhouse like Zoe; I can't just will something to happen and it does. I need to follow certain rituals, adhere to certain procedures. I'm Wiccan," he explained at Klaus's blank look. "And there are certain ways of doing things when you follow a certain path of this particular flavor of paganism."

Klaus blinked. "If you say so," he said doubtfully. "I'm only familiar with magic of the black variety, so I'll have to take your word on it."

Ezra laughed. "Relax, Klaus. I know what I'm doing. Look," he continued, "I went shopping for Zoe this morning and bought a ton of magical crap. We should have everything we need for the cleansing."

Klaus nodded. "Let's go collect what you need, then, and get started."

"Yeah," Ezra agreed, casting one more look at Kieran before following his friend out of the room to track down the items they needed.

Once they had everything they needed, they returned to Kieran's room. Klaus hesitated after setting down the box of ingredients he'd gathered. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked uncertainly.

Ezra nearly dropped the ceramic bowl of black salt in surprise and cursed under his breath as he caught it. "No, idiot," he said, rolling his eyes, "Of course I don't want you to leave. What would make you say that?"

"Well, if you need to concentrate..."

"I'll focus better if there's someone here I can trust to watch my back," Ezra replied evenly. "And that's you, so suck it up and sit the fuck down."

Klaus smirked and shook his head in amusement. "If you're sure," he said, sitting down in the folding chair by the window.

"I'm sure," Ezra told him, then turned his attention to the task at hand.

First things first, he had to consecrate the mirror.

He took the white candle, the cup of water, the small bowl of white salt, and the incense and arranged them in a diamond on the folding card table they'd brought in from the game room. Lighting the candle and the incense, he took the mirror in his hands, took a deep breath to focus himself, and began.

He started by passing the mirror over the bowl of salt and then turning to face north.

" _Powers of the North_ ," he intoned, " _Guardians of the Earth, I consecrate this mirror and charge it with your energies. I purify it this night, and make this tool sacred_."

He changed position so that he was facing east and holding the mirror in the smoke of the incense.

" _Powers of the East, Guardians of the Air, I consecrate this mirror and charge it with your energies. I purify it this night, and make this tool sacred._ "

He moved again, this time so that he was facing south and holding the mirror above the flame of the candle.

" _Powers of the South, Guardians of Fire, I consecrate this mirror and charge it with your energies. I purify it this night, and make this tool sacred._ "

And then he turned to the west and passed the mirror over the cup of water.

" _Powers of the West, Guardians of Water, I consecrate this mirror and charge it with your energies. I purify it this night, and make this tool sacred_."

And then finally, he took a step back and raised the mirror skyward towards the heavens.

" _I charge this mirror in the name of Old Ones_ ," he declared, " _the Ancients, the Sun and the Moon and the Stars. By the powers of the Earth, of Air, of Fire and of Water I banish the energies of any previous owners, and make it new and fresh. I consecrate this mirror_ ," he concluded, " _and it is mine_."

A wave of energy washed through the room, wrapping around Ezra and the mirror he held in his hands. As the power receded, the mirror glowed a faint blue around the edges and then resumed its normal appearance.

"Impressive," Klaus remarked, and though his tone was patronizing and his trademark smirk was gracing his face as he stood up and came closer, Ezra could sense the genuine spark of admiration in his friend as he watched Ezra.

"Thanks," Ezra replied, "but we're not quite done yet." Holding the mirror in one hand, he carefully moved aside the consecration items and brought over the bowl of black salt. "Now comes the actual breaking-the-hex part."

"What does this spell actually involve?" Klaus asked curiously, watching as he carefully placed the mirror upright in the bowl of black salt.

"It's sort of a reversal," Ezra explained, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a pen and carefully printing _Bastiana_ and _toursion fou, mort de l'espirit_ on it. "We're not so much breaking the spell as bouncing it back at the one who cast it. This paper," he went on, picking it up and placing it in the bowl so that it faced the mirror, "represents Bastiana and the hex she put on Kieran. The consecrated mirror will catch the dark energy from the hex she cast on Kieran and reflect it back at her. Even if she finds a way to negate being hit with it herself, it should still remove it from Kieran. That being said, I'm not taking any chances." He took a step back, lit another stick of incense, and waved it over the bowl and mirror even as he brought the white candle and the cup of water over and placed them on either side of the bowl. " _As water meets fire_ ," he chanted, " _this spell is undone. As water meets fire, this spell is now broken. As water meets fire_ ," he went on, " _this man is now free. Blessings to the gods, so may it be._ "

Another rush of power coursed through the room, this time so powerful is snatched Ezra's breath away and forced Klaus to take a step back. The energy swirled around the room for a moment, and then descended upon Kieran.

The priest's eyes opened wide as the energy wrapped around him. He bolted upright, gasping, as the magic seeped into his body and went to work against the hex that was poisoning him. The priest cried out and writhed as the hex was purged from his body, and once it was all over, he slumped back down onto the bed, sweating and pale as his chest heaved with ragged breaths.

"Quick," Ezra said, setting down the incense and moving to grab Kieran. "We need to get him into a purifying bath _now_. We need to be sure the negative energy has been completely purged from his body."

Klaus didn't argue, taking Kieran's other side and helping to carry him into the bathroom where they already had a steaming hot bath waiting. And not just any bath; just as Ezra had declared earlier, this bath contained hyssop, rue, vetivert, basil, and salt. Hyssop for purification and defense, rue for protection, vetivert just as an additional layer of insurance for hex-breaking, and basil to warn off any lingering negative magics. Mixed with the salt, the purification bath was a powerful finishing touch for freeing Kieran for the hex.

Not willing to waste time by pausing to strip him, they hefted Kieran into the bath fully clothed. A sizzle of magic flashed through the air, then subsided as Kieran exhaled a sigh a relief as the remnants of the hex finally left him. The priest leaned his head back against the tiled wall and closed his eyes, murmuring a soft prayer of gratitude.

"Well," Klaus murmured, "looks like we've done it, then."

"We did," Ezra said, bracing himself against the sink because he was abruptly light-headed, exhaustion and the buzz from the magic mixing together in a bizarrely heady combination. "He's free from the curse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter ended up basically being...almost all Ezra. XD The next chapter will be Zoe at the party, honest! But I was having so much fun with Ezra and his Wiccan magic, and before I knew it the hex-breaking ate up the whole chapter. XD
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you thought of everything. Good, bad, so-so? Are you excited to finally see Ezra really doing magic? I know a lot of the Ezra fans out there have been eager for him to show off the magical side of his heritage, and I personally was really looking forward to working in Wiccan magic; even though I have no personal experience with it, I have done a fair bit of research and find all of it totally fascinating. And I'm also having fun brainstorming the magical differences between Ezra and Zoe; they both have the same heritage, but they've chosen different paths as far as practicing magic goes and I think I'm going to have a lot of fun working with that. :)
> 
> Anyway, drop me a review. I always adore feedback. ;) Oh, also, a picture of Zoe's dress is going to be posted (you guessed it!) on my tumblr as well as on Ao3 as a screenshot, so check it out if you're curious to see what exactly she was wearing. ;)
> 
> Also...ZOLIJAH KISS COUNTDOWN: 2 more chapters! Technically maybe one more chapter? Because the kiss comes at the end of 66, so all that's left between then and now is Chapter 65...so...okay then! *ahem* KISS COUNTDOWN CORRECTION: ONE MORE CHAPTER REMAINING! Can I get a "Hell yes!"? ;D


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

" **A little party never hurt anybody."**

* * *

Even as Hayley hung up clothes outside for the wolves to change into when they shifted into their human forms and chattered away excitedly to me and Rebekah how much fun this was going to be and how exciting it was to finally have a chance to meet her real blood family, I couldn't shake the knot of foreboding that was growing in my gut. Well, it was either a knot of foreboding or an ulcer...difficult to say which.

In all seriousness, though, something about this was starting to make me uncomfortable. I tried to put it down to having so many strange werewolves lurking around, but it felt like something more than that.

Something bad was going to go down tonight. I was sure of it. The question just remained...what would it be, and who would it hurt? I resolved to stay as close to Hayley as humanly possible. Protecting her was my mission, after all.

Chewing on my lip nervously as I watched werewolves emerge from the treeline in human skins they hadn't had without the power of the full moon, I fished my phone out of the little sequined purse Rbekah had given me to go along with the dress and heels.

I'd been texting back and forth with Elijah about an hour previously, having opted to give him a head's up about our little party, just so that he wouldn't be taken by surprise when he came home and found a literal pack of strangers in his home.

Our texts had turned from me assuring him I'd look after Hayley to me asking what he was doing; he'd explained that he was investigating something to do with the local coven and how Monique had come back from the dead. He'd mentioned something about doing a ghost tour with a local witch in the hopes of getting her alone to interrogate, and I hadn't heard from him since. It worried me a little, but I reminded myself that Elijah was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

Besides, I realized as I watched more and more wolves spill out of the woods, I had plenty to handle here at the plantation.

A few of the wolves approached me, sniffing at me to catch my scent before extending their hands in greeting. I shook their hands reluctantly, making sure to look every single one of them in the eye until they dropped their gazes. It was something I'd be doing a lot of tonight, I knew; asserting my dominance so they all understood not to mess with me. I normally wouldn't have worried about it so much, but with so many of them around and Hayley so vulnerable, I couldn't afford to be seen as submissive or weak in any way. So I looked them all in the eye, letting my dominant wolf nature show clearly in my gaze.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with some of the guests, I slipped back inside to find Hayley engaged in conversation with a handsome werewolf man who had dark brown hair and warm eyes. Not wanting to intrude on the moment, I instead drifted into the adjoining room and started fussing with a tray of mini fruit tarts, making sure I still had a good line of sight to Hayley and her companion through the doorway.

"You're Hayley," the man was saying. "I'm Jackson. It's nice to see you again."

"You're the wolf that's been watching me," Hayley realized.

"I gotta keep my eye on you," Jackson replied with a smile. "Precious cargo and all."

"Right," Hayley said, her voice turning slightly sour. "Gotta protect the miracle baby."

"No, that's not what I meant. I don't care about the baby. Sorry," he added quickly, "that came out wrong. I mean, of course I care. You're a Labonair. A baby, it's a big deal. But personally," he added, "my interest is in you."

Hayley looked at him uncertainly. "You don't even know me."

"Our parents knew each other," Jackson replied. "They were of the same people but not the same bloodline. Now, you know how pack hierarchy works, right? Everybody has their part to play, and... we had our part too."

"What part was that?" Hayley asked.

Jackson gave a sad sort of smile. "You were supposed to be my wife," he said.

I nearly dropped the tarts I was arranging, and I could tell from the shocked silence in the next room that Hayley was no less surprised by this latest development.

"I know it's a lot to take in," Jackson said softly.

Hayley gave a shaky laugh. "You think? I just wanted to meet my family. I never imagined I'd meet my husband from some weird-ass arranged marriage."

Jackson sighed. "I guess you don't know about any of this because there was never anyone around to teach you. The Crescents aren't just any pack of wolves," he went on patiently. "The bloodline goes back to the very beginning. Two families, yours and mine. I guess that makes us kind of a royalty," he added with a wry smile.

Hayley snorted. "This is a joke, right? I mean, if you're royalty, where's the throne?"

"New Orleans used to be our town," Jackson said, "but we lost it all because of some infighting. The vampires came after us, and if our families were united we could've taken them. So our parents decided to bring the two lines back together. And you and I were betrothed."

Hayley shook her head in denial, taking several steps away. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaking, "but this is ridiculous."

"Look," Jackson said, stepping closer and fixing her with a pleading look, "obviously things didn't work out the way anyone thought they would. Our pack made a huge misstep with the vampires when we refused to back down, and Marcel had us cursed by a witch. You are the last one of your bloodline, Andrea. Or Hayley," he said, correcting himself, "whatever you call yourself. These people will follow you. You can help them; you and what you represent."

Hayley eyed him in open disbelief. "And what is that exactly?" she asked skeptically.

"A time when things were different," Jackson said fervently. "When our people fought _back_. And after everything you went through to find us..." A gentle smile crossed his face. "You're the one who's gonna break our curse."

I paused mid-motion in my snack preparation and scowled in confusion. There was absolutely nothing Hayley could do to lift the curse; what the hell was this guy talking about?

Hayley, likewise, made a sound of immense confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked Jackson.

"Your witch friend," Jackson said in explanation, looking baffled by Hayley's lack of understanding. "She told Eve that she was coming here tonight to free us."

I dropped the plate I was holding and snatched up a kitchen knife from the counter, sprinting into the room just in time for Hayley's next question.

"Wait," she said, holding up a hand and flashing me a grateful look as I sidled up next to her and gave Jackson my best warning glare, "what witch friend?"

Jackson took a moment to glare at me in open challenge and I met his glower with an intense look of my own. He might have been bayou werewolf royalty, but I was a wolf of the Volkov bloodline, which went all the way back to Eastern Europe; I wasn't backing down.

Just as things might have come to blows, a fierce wind gusted through the room, slamming shut every single door and window.

 _Well, shit_ , I thought, then jumped as my phone went off.

"What's going on?" Jackson asked, wincing as another sharp wind cut through the room and sent several lighter pieces of decorative furniture flying across the room.

"It's a trap," Hayley snapped. "I didn't make a deal with any witch."

A quick look at my caller ID had me flipping open my phone. "Hi, Elijah," I said, my voice full of false cheer. "Now's not really the best time; can I call you back?"

"Zoe," Elijah said, his voice strained like he was in pain, "listen to me. You and Hayley were right. Celeste is back...You...and Hayley...Niklaus, Rebekah...you're all...in danger."

"What?" I ducked as a lamp came soaring at my head. "Elijah, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Celeste," Elijah said again, his voice growing weaker with every word he spoke. "She...wants revenge. She'll hurt me by...hurting you. Zoe," he said, his voice turning harsh, " _you must get away._ "

"Little late for that now," I replied. "The doors have already all been blocked."

"What? Zoe-"

"Here," I said, cutting him off, "talk to Hayley for a second, okay? I have work to do." And without another word, I tossed the phone across the room to Hayley, who caught it with a expression that was half alarm and half confusion.

"Elijah," Hayley said into the phone as I did a perimeter check of the room, double-checking to see if there were any ways out I'd missed seeing, "we can't get out. They're trapping us inside with some sort of spell." A pause. "No, Zoe's checking now." Another pause. "No, I haven't seen her. She went off with some other werewolf earlier."

"Bekah?" I asked over my shoulder as I pounded against the glass of a window to see if it would give way. But it remained strong against my blows; it had to have been reinforced with magic somehow.

"Yeah," Hayley said, coming over to join me. "Elijah said Celeste gave him a choice: save us or save Rebekah."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Elijah," I said, raising my voice so he could hear it even though Hayley still held the phone, "but your girlfriend seems like sort of a bitch."

"Well, what can I say," Elijah replied, voice unsteady even as he tried to be lighthearted. "It seems I have a type."

Hayley and I made identical sounds of indignation and exchanged a mutually exasperated look. "Men," we said in unison.

Then the room went up in flames and I barely managed to throw up a shield before it consumed us.

Jackson stared at the flames with wide eyes, looking terrified. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he said hoarsely.

"Oh, so you didn't really want us all to die horrible deaths?" I snarled. "That's so fucking comforting, thank you!"

"Zoe!" Hayley exclaimed, jumping away from the window as the curtains erupted into flames. "I saw them outside! Three witches," she said, panting for air. "Sirena was there, and two others. I thought I saw Bastiana for a second, but then she collapsed and someone took her away."

"So they're casting a spell to burn us all to death," I concluded. "That's..." I shook my head. "Fuck, what bitches."

"We need to get out of here," Hayley said, her voice rising as panic took hold. "We can't die like this, we can't let them win!"

I ignored her impending hysteria as I tried to summon a rainstorm to put out the flames. But my concentration was shot to hell, and my body was feeling the strain of being trapped in a burning room. It also didn't help that the weather was only slightly overcast outside; whipping up any sort of useful storm out of the patchy clouds would require more time and energy than I had to spare at the moment.

Jackson, showing himself to be considerate and quick-thinking, snatched the flowers out of a vase, poured the water out onto a towel and handed it to Hayley. "Here," he said, "breathe through this."

Hayley obeyed, still coughing a bit from the smell of the smoke but otherwise breathing fine, all things considered.

I, in the meantime, fixed my attention on a nondescript patch of wall slightly to the left of the window. "When I say go," I told my two companions, "you guys make a break for it, okay? Get the hell out of here."

They stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Zoe," Hayley said, her voice muffled by the towel, "there's no way out."

"There will be," I said grimly, and collected as much psychokinetic energy into my hands as I could. Not taking even a moment to ground myself for fear of losing the energy I'd summoned, I let it course through me in and erupt from my hands as a blast at the wall.

The energy slammed into the wall, booming like thunder and crackling like lightning as it blew out chunks of brick and plaster. It created a ragged hole just big enough for a person to fit through.

An escape.

"Go," I said, shouting over the roar of the flames. "Get out!"

"What about you?" Hayley asked, jumping back as a burning beam fell from the ceiling and blocked me off from the very exit I'd just created. "We can't leave you here!"

"Yes, you can," I said.

"But Zoe-"

"Jackson," I screamed, "get her out of here _right now_!"

He obeyed without hesitation, scooping up Hayley in his arms even as she flailed and argued, pounding on his shoulders and demanding that he not leave me behind. She railed and cursed at him even as he rushed through the hole in the wall and vanished into the night air.

It was really damn touching actually, that she cared so much about me getting out; it made me feel like maybe whatever animosity had been between us was gone now. But my job was to protect Hayley, not myself. That she'd made it out was the most important thing.

I fell to my knees as the backlash from the magic hit me, and I dry-heaved as my vision swam with little black spots. I gasped for air, but the smoke choked me, scorching my throat and making my lungs seize up.

Just when I thought it was all over, as the flames hissed and leapt towards me and the smoke snaked its way into my lungs and suffocated me, _he_ appeared, crashing through one of the windows on the other side of the room.

"Elijah," I wheezed from where I lay collapsed on the floor. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

"Zorana," was all Elijah said, but the look on his face was so intense it was all that needed saying. He swung me up into his arms and then rushed me outside to safety.

He set me down gently on the grass of the lawn and I gasped for air, taking great big heaving breaths to drive out the smoke and ash that was lingering in my lungs. I actually came dangerously close to hyperventilating and passing out, but Elijah braced me from behind and kept me grounded as I tried to regain control of myself.

"Where-" I broke off into a coughing fit and then tried again. "Where are Hayley and Jackson?"

"Over there," Elijah said, nodding to indicate two figures silhouetted against the fiery backdrop of the plantation house.

"Hell of a way to meet your husband," I mumbled, struggling to my feet.

Elijah frowned at me in confusion. "What?"

I shook my head tiredly, then pressed a hand on my stomach as a wave of nausea rolled through me. "I'll explain later."

Elijah pursed his lips like he wanted to debate the issue further, then relented. "As you wish, " he said softly.

I smiled at him weakly, taking note of how handsome he looked even covered in soot and sweat. "Thanks for coming to save me," I said.

Elijah's expression softened. "I will always come for you."

My heart pounded in my chest, unsure of how to take that particular declaration, and I was actually half a second away from demanding some clarification of intent, when a piercing scream cut through the night air.

Whirling around, we darted towards the sound. We arrived just in time to see Patrick Evans knock Jackson unconscious with a swift punch to the jaw and sling Hayley over his shoulder, flashing us an evil taunting grin as he did so.

Sirena was standing not far away, hands planted on her hips as her eyes glowed with an unholy sheen in the light from the fire. "Looks like this round goes to us after all, Storme." She thrust a hand out, shouted an incantation, and then disappeared along with Patrick and Hayley in a brilliant flash of silver light.

I had only one thing to say about this latest development.

"I fucking hate parties."


	66. Chapter 66

" _ _ **Kiss me in the rain**__

 __**Love** _ _ _**me in the** _ __**dark** _ _

_**Hold me till the end** _

_**And never break my Heart."** _

* * *

We returned to the Abattoir just long enough for me and Elijah to fill in the others and what had happened and to get changed into clothing that didn't reek of smoke and fire and then we were off again.

Klaus was furious over Hayley's abduction, but didn't seem to hold me responsible for not keeping her safe, which was both puzzling and a relief.

"It's not your fault," he had said to me just before I left with Elijah. "You did your best."

"My best obviously wasn't good enough," I had said in response. "So now I'm going to go do my worst."

Klaus had looked at me intently before releasing me. "Be careful," was all he'd said after that, and then he'd retreated upstairs to check on Camille and her uncle, who had apparently just been set free from a murderous hex thanks to my brother.

My brother, bless him, had only wrapped me in a bone-cracking hug before making me promise to not do anything excessively stupid on my quest to save Hayley. He also made me promise to keep an eye out for Rebekah, who had also vanished during the plantation fire. I agreed easily to the second and somewhat reluctantly to the first, because I knew in my heart that if saving Hayley required me doing something idiotic I'd do it in a heartbeat.

Hayley was, I'd realized, my friend. And what kind of friend would _I_ be if I didn't do everything I could to bring her home?

So I jumped into my latest borrowed car, a delightful Chevy Camaro that had a nice throaty engine, and tore down the road with Elijah in the shotgun seat. Hayley had still had my phone with her when she'd been taken, so we were using my GPS tracking program to pinpoint her location. Currently, Hayley and the people who had taken her were on the move, although where they were going...that I couldn't fathom. There wasn't much of anything in the direction they were heading towards, just empty fields and abandoned properties.

Then again, if you needed a place to stash a hostage, maybe an abandoned barn or something would be just the place.

We were just beginning to get close to the cell phone signal when suddenly the program freaked out, flashing pings all across the immediate area before popping up a system failure alert. _Signal interference_ , the alert informed us. _Unable to pinpoint exact coordinates._ It instead gave us a search zone, with absolutely nothing else to go on other than the last few pings, which had been centered in between a few derelict buildings that looked like collapsing barns from an aerial satellite view.

"Oh," I said in annoyance, "that's just great. Fantastic. They finally stop moving and we can't track them right to their hideout. No, that would be too simple," I said angrily. Then the phone I'd borrowed from my twin went off and I answered it with a snarl. "What the fuck now?" I demanded.

"Why, Zorana," the silky smooth voice from my nightmares said, "is that any way to speak to your beloved uncle?"

My blood went ice cold as I slammed on the brakes and wrenched the steering wheel around so hard it was a miracle I didn't flip the car and land us in a roadside ditch.

Elijah had braced both hands against the dash and was giving me a faintly alarmed look.

I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe to worry about how Elijah was looking at me. My heart was pounding far too hard and fast in my chest and it felt an awful lot like my lungs weren't taking in any air at all. My vision started to go white and frizzy at the edges and my hands were shaking so badly that I nearly dropped the phone.

Then my uncle spoke again and I _did_ drop the phone, as if it were a hot coal and I'd just been burned.

"Zorana," my uncle said, his voice genial, "are you still there, dear niece?"

I made a choking sound that sounded more like a croaking toad than anything, not able to get my voice to work right. _Fuck off_ , is what I wanted to tell him, but the fear that was holding my body hostage wouldn't let me do much more than sit there and shake.

"I thought this was your brother's number," my uncle was saying, carrying on without missing a beat, "but I must say, I'm much more pleased to have reached you. How are you enjoying New Orleans, my dear? Is everything living up to your expectations?"

"Mmraaghh," I managed to gurgle out, and then resumed trying to suck in enough air to form a coherent sentence that didn't sound like Dwarvish.

Elijah, to his credit, hadn't said anything at all, either to my uncle or myself, and had instead stepped out of the car to place an emergency call back to the Abattoir to inform them of _this_ newest development.

"I was thinking of coming to town for a visit," my uncle went on. "It's been so long since I've seen you and your brother, after all."

"Yeah," I croaked. "About sixteen years." The last time Ezra and I had seen Reginald had been when he'd cursed us with immortality at age twenty-two. Before that we hadn't seen him since the deaths of our parents over a decade previously, and we'd gone to great pains to never be within a hundred miles of him ever since.

"You see?" Reginald said. "Far too long for family to be apart."

I made a sound of disagreement, my voice coming back to me just a bit. "On the contrary," I said shakily, "not long enough, all things considered."

My uncle laughed, as if he found me the most amusing person in the world. "Ah, Zorana, how precious you are. Well, I've decided. I'll be coming to New Orleans as soon as my business affairs permit. I look forward," he added, his voice taking on a darker note, "to catching up with you and your brother very, _very_ soon." And then the line went dead as he disconnected the call.

I stared at the phone in horror. _God help us_ , I thought in despair. _He's coming._

"Zoe?"

I startled so badly I nearly hit the ceiling. Literally, I almost smacked into the roof of the car.

"I contacted the others," Elijah said, sliding into the car slowly as if he were worried about me bolting away. "Ezra says you should return to the compound immediately. Klaus agrees," he added. "They don't want you out here if there's any chance of your uncle making an appearance."

When I opened my mouth and spoke, I was surprised to hear my voice come out sounding normal. "No," I said, "we need to find Patrick and Sirena. They took Hayley and probably Rebekah. I intend to end Patrick once and for all," I added darkly, "and Sirena too if I get my way."

"If you're sure," Elijah said uncertainly. "I do agree that we must hurry and rescue Hayley, but..."

I winced before I could stop myself; still, even now, he was more worried about _Hayley_ than anything. I tried not to be bitter. "Then why are we still talking about this?" I asked. "Buckle your damn seat belt and let's go."

Elijah hesitated, then obeyed, pulling his door shut and fastening his seatbelt with a click.

I revved the engine and then we were off again, heading for the first building on the horizon.

It, of course, turning out to be empty. Well, not _entirely_ empty. It had a few zombies inside.

Yes, I do mean zombies. Really. Unlike the revenant Patrick, these were more like the traditional undead, with their flesh rotting and peeling from their bones as their bones creaked and clicked as they twisted around in alarmingly fast shambling movements.

At first there only seemed to be a few of them, but more spilled out of the barn even as we tore the first ones into foul-smelling pieces.

"What is this," I griped as I twisted a zombie's head off its shoulders, "an episode of _The Walking Dead_?"

Elijah gave a faint snort of laughter but didn't say anything in response, instead focusing on using his vampire speed to eliminate the remaining zombies.

Then we piled ourselves back into the car, drove to the next closest building, and repeated the process.

We did this three more times, driving to an abandoned building and searching it for Hayley only to find flesh-hungry undead creatures inside.

By the time we finished with the latest round, I was feeling pretty pissed off at just about everything. The zombies, my uncle, my _life_. I was sweating and sore and no closer to anything resembling personal satisfaction at my place in the universe. The only upside so far today was the fact that a rainstorm had moved in and was washing away the putrid zombie blood that had splattered on my skin and soaked into my clothes.

Elijah, intense and focused as always, seemed entirely oblivious to my rapidly souring mood. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back towards the car, not even seeming to notice the rain puddles he splashed across. "Come," he said brusquely, "let's be off and check the next location."

"Can't we at least take a breather first?" I asked irritably, brushing my damp hair out my face with my free hand.

"Don't be ridiculous," was his answer.

"Ridiculous?" I echoed disbelievingly. " _Ridiculous?_ "

"Yes. We need to get to Hayley," Elijah said insistently, pulling me along. "She's been captured by two utter psychopaths. There's no telling what they'll do to her."

Okay, it was a fair point. But even so, I was abruptly a hundred and ten percent _done_ with the all of it.

"I am so sick of this," I snarled at him, going from exhausted to furious in less than a heartbeat. "Why is _Hayley_ always your first priority? Is she honestly the only person you think about?" I demanded. "For the love of God, you've prioritized her above your own brother and sister! And here we are again, risking our lives and sanity because you like the pregnant werewolf's ass!"

Elijah opened his mouth to protest but I talked right over him, my jealous fury and angry fear riding me hard and not letting go.

"And here _I_ am again," I continued angrily, "trying to help you save that ungrateful needy bitch. Because you asked me to, and I apparently don't have the good sense to get the hell out of town to save myself and my brother. Do you _get_ that, Elijah? Because my uncle is coming here to rip me and my brother to pieces and _I am staying here because of you_. Because I am too fucking in love with you to leave. And the worst part? You don't even fucking _see_ me. All you see is Hayley." I swallowed hard, chest heaving. There were tears sliding down my cheeks but I could pretend that they were raindrops. "So you know what? I'm done. I'm done with your crazy-ass family and this stupid insane city. I'm over all of it, so you can just go fuck yourself."

Elijah stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. "What did you just say?"

I glared at him, pushing my hair out of my face even as the rain continued to pour down on us. "I said go fuck yourself," I snapped.

"No," he said, crossing the distance between us and putting his hands on my upper arms in a grip that was tight but not unpleasant. "Before that." He lifted one hand to touch my cheek hesitantly. "Zoe..."

I pulled away, heart aching. "It doesn't matter," I said. "Forget I said anything." I turned away and headed for the car. "Come on, we need to hurry and get to Hayley. She's in danger, right?" I reached for the handle of the driver's door, but before I could pull it open more than an inch or two, Elijah was there, grabbing my wrist and pulling me away.

I whirled on him angrily. "What are you doing?" I demanded, then went silent in shock as he shifted position and pushed me up against the car, hands pressing into me with a gentle strength that pinned me without making me feel trapped. My shock deepened further when his hands went to my waist and caressed me through the wet fabric of my shirt. The sensation of his touch through the damp cloth made me shiver and I licked my nips nervously. "Elijah," I said uncertainly. "What..."

He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to mine in answer to my unfinished question, and all rational thought fled my brain at that instant, as his fingers traced invisible patterns along my hips and stomach and filled me with a heat that was both familiar and foreign. His lips were soft and gentle, and I couldn't help but reach up one hand to press against the sinfully attractive muscles of his chest.

The kiss deepened, turning from something unsure and chaste to something _more_ as his tongue caressed my lips and then delved deeper. I let out a soft little moan despite myself and his hands on my waist tightened almost imperceptibly at the sound, pulling me closer to him. I was a little embarrassed at my reaction, but was too preoccupied to think much of it. I was more focused on things like Elijah and how good it felt to have my body pressed up against his. Without stopping to second guess myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck and wound my fingers in his hair, almost plastering myself to him in my need to be even closer. I could feel the heat from his body as I pressed closer, and hear the strong rhythm of his heart. Normally strong and steady, his heart-rate was faster now, and that simple fact pleased me more than words can explain.

I could have stood there forever, reveling in the feel of his hands on my body and savoring the taste of his lips and tongue, but eventually I needed to breathe so I pulled away. Once my lips were unglued form his, I looked at him hopefully but not without wariness. "What was that all about?"

"I should think it would be obvious," Elijah replied, his tone teasing as he lifted one hand to trace my jawline with a featherlight touch.

I leaned into the touch before I could stop myself, then scowled. "But you love Hayley," I argued, loosening my hold on his neck. I repeated it again to remind myself why this was a bad idea that could go nowhere. "You love Hayley."

Elijah hesitated before answering. "I care for her," he admitted at last. "Very much. But this, with you...I had similar feelings around Hayley once, but... _never_ so strongly. Never like _this_."

"How does it feel?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper. "Tell me." I needed to know, because his answer was so important. Did he feel what I felt? This connection, this _need_? Because if so...If so...  
  
It would change everything. I knew that my feelings for him were deep, an unrelenting aspect of my emotions. I had been forced to come to terms with that despite the fact I'd been dead certain he would never reciprocate my affections. But now...if there was even a small chance that he felt even a fraction of this, too...

"Like I'm a drowning man and you're the air I need to survive," Elijah murmured, pressing his forehead against mine and closing his eyes like he was struggling to understand. "Like someone ripped out my heart and put it somewhere outside of my control." He opened his eyes and a mischievous smile flickered across his lips. "Like I want to kiss you forever and never stop."

Well. That last bit was definitely something I could get behind. "So what are you waiting for?" I challenged, leaning back in a way that made it extremely obvious that I was wearing only a soaking wet t-shirt and a thin bra.

Elijah captured my lips in a sizzling kiss without another word, his hands running up and down my back in teasing touches that left me craving more. I, likewise, couldn't seem to stop myself from dancing my fingers along and across his chest, flicking at the buttons of his dress shirt in playful annoyance since they were keeping me from real skin to skin contact. Elijah broke away to bury his face against my hair, his breathing ragged and uneven. "You're going to be the death of me," he muttered.

"Technically," I felt obligated to point out, "you're already dead." A wicked smile curved my lips. "Maybe I can send you to heaven," I said suggestively.

He gave a low moan and gave me a look that was half plaintive and half hungry. "Zoe..."

I pulled away just enough to snag the handle of the car door. "Come on, Elijah. There's a perfectly comfortable backseat just waiting to be taken advantage of." I brushed the pad of my thumb across his lips and pressed a gentle teasing kiss against the side of his neck, licking his skin afterward in a way that made him shudder in pleasure and pull me flush against his body.

"Zoe," he said again, and this time there was no mistaking the need in his voice.

We were two of a kind in that department, at least; the hunger I felt for him seemed to go on endlessly. I couldn't imagine myself ever getting enough of touching him, kissing him. Even just inhaling his clean crisp scent was enough to make me feel like I was in paradise.

That being said, his scent was not going to be enough to quell the heat that was rising within me, and judging from the look on Elijah's face..well, he obviously wanted more than foreplay, too. I distantly wondered what had changed, how we had gone from absolutely nothing to this powerful heat between us, but I was too hungry for this touch and care to wonder too deeply. Some part of me knew that this could all be false, and that part of me also couldn't be bothered to care. I had wanted this, wanted _him_ , for too long to do anything else.

So I opened the car door and climbed inside, pulling Elijah in after me.


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm going to preface this chapter by saying that, yeah, sorry, the Zolijah make-out session gets interrupted. I'm sorry! It's just the way it needs to be right now, because as much as we'd like the two of them to finally really hook up, they are in the middle of a rescue mission and neither of them are irresponsible enough to just go "To hell with Hayley, let's have hot sex in the back of a car" you know? On the plus side, we get to see Zoe being super pissed about being interrupted. :) Also, and this might seem weird, but the second half of the chapter is from Genevieve's viewpoint? Yeah, I know, it's strange, but it works, because I needed to show some of the stuff that's going on with the enemy side, you know? XD Anyway, enjoy the chapter! It's a bit shorter than the last one, but that really just means it's of average length. ;)

**Chapter 67**

" **Circumstances may cause interruptions and delays, but never lose sight of your goal."**

* * *

I was in the middle of unbuttoning Elijah's fancy dress shirt when my borrowed cellphone interrupted us, blaring out the chorus of _Dani California_ into the steamy confines of the Camaro's backseat.

I jolted up in surprise, concussed myself on the ceiling of the car for the second time in less than two hours, and snarled out every curse and vile oath I could think of as I scrambled to find the phone and answer the call.

I flipped the phone open a little more roughly than was necessary and practically shouted into the mouthpiece. "What?!"

"Temper, temper," Klaus said in answer, sounding both shocked and amused at my furious greeting. "What's got your fur so tangled up?"

I snorted before I could stop myself; hearing Klaus use a werewolf saying that my brother and I had taught him in passing was just amusing enough to lessen my wrath a little. But only a little. "You're sort of...interrupting something," I replied, exchanging a slightly guilty look with Elijah. We were _supposed_ to be still looking for Hayley, but we'd gotten...sidetracked.

Very sidetracked, I realized, noticing that somewhere along the way my shirt had come off and I was just in my bra and jeans, with my hair a tousled mess and my skin feeling oddly feverish. Elijah looked to be in much the same condition; his hair was sticking out in odd directions from where I'd run my fingers through it and his pale cheeks were flushed; where his suit jacket had ended up, I had no idea.

"Your voice sounds strange," Klaus noted. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh..." I struggled to think of something to say that wasn't _Totally great, I was making out with your older brother_. "Yeah," I said at last, my answer sounding lame even to me. "Fine."

A moment of silence as Klaus seemed to think that over, and then a crackle of static as he gave a slight sigh; his lack of a reply made it clear that he didn't buy my answer and was giving me a chance to say something more.

But I offered nothing else. "Did you need something?" I asked instead, reaching for my rain-soaked t-shirt and shrugging back into it, trying to not make a face at the chilly dampness as it clung to my skin.

"Not exactly," he said. "I just wanted to inform you of a new development."

"Oh, hell's bells," I exclaimed, finally shifting off of Elijah's lap completely and crawling back up front to the driver's seat. "What now?"

"I've just received a ransom call from a witch calling herself Genevieve," he answered. "She claims to be working with Bastiana and Sirena; she says that she has Rebekah in her custody, and is willing to return her to us if I go to meet with her."

"You realize it's a trap, right?" I said, right as Elijah said "Niklaus, you had better not do anything foolish."

A snort as Klaus absorbed our words. "Look at the two of you, united in your concern for me. It's heartwarming, truly."

"You're such an asshole," I grumbled, even as Elijah just gave that knowing little smile. "Seriously, though," I went on, "you _do_ know it's a trap? Don't you?"

Klaus made a dismissive sound as if he didn't care one way or the other. "I don't doubt that the witches have Rebekah," he said. "I don't know what they wish to accomplish by summoning me to a meeting, but if there's any chance of gaining Rebekah's freedom by going...well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Elijah, in the middle of clambering back into the shotgun seat, gave a little start, looking surprised at his brother's words.

I elbowed him in the side and gave him a chiding look; even as volatile as Klaus could be, did Elijah _really_ think that Klaus wouldn't drop absolutely everything else he was doing to help his sister? If so, he didn't know his little brother well at all. "Take Ezra with you at least?" I said into the phone, not bothering to disguise the worry in my voice.

"Can't," was Klaus's immediate response.

"Why not?" Elijah asked calmly as I just growled incoherently, frustrated beyond words with the idea of Klaus walking straight into a trap with no back-up.

"Because he needs to stay at the compound," Klaus replied reasonably. "I don't want Camille left alone here, and Kieran is still recovering from the hex. I wonder if the reversal has hit Bastiana yet," he added thoughtfully. "If so, it would explain the coven's sudden aggression."

"Who the fuck cares about Bastiana?" I asked, irritated. "If the hex backfired properly, she should go insane and die soon; within a couple days at the most. I'm more worried about all the _other_ witches who want you dead, Klaus. Like this Genevieve chick? Who the hell is _she_?"

"No idea," Klaus replied, his voice full of false brightness. "Good thing I'll have a chance at a proper introduction soon, eh?"

"For the love of God..." I rubbed my face tiredly. "Please, _please_ don't do anything stupid, Klaus. If they take _you_ out we're all screwed."

"Relax, Zoe," he said. "There's nothing the witches have that can harm me. I'll go meet with this Genevieve woman, retrieve Rebekah, and then return to the compound. Simple."

"I've learned that things rarely go so simply," Elijah remarked. "Niklaus, perhaps it would be better if you wait to meet this witch until Zoe and I return. Then one of us can accompany you to-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Elijah," Klaus said, cutting his brother off. "I can handle a silly little witch on my own. I hardly need my big brother there to hold my hand."

Elijah clenched his jaw, looking frustrated. "Niklaus-"

"Find Hayley," Klaus said flatly. "She's in much more danger than I am. Please," he added hesitantly, "find her for me. She's carrying my child, and if anything happens to her or the baby..."

I swallowed hard, the obvious sincerity in his voice making a lump form in my throat. "We'll find her," I told him, now very definitely feeling guilty for delaying Hayley's rescue with my little make-out session with Elijah. "I promise, Klaus. If I have to tear through the entire coven to get her out, I will."

" _We_ will," Elijah corrected, smiling faintly at me before directing his words to the phone again. "We'll find her for you, brother. I swear."

"...Thank you," Klaus replied after a moment of tense silence. "Brother."

And then the call disconnected, Klaus hanging up on us as he presumably resumed preparations for going to confront this Genevieve person.

"What a night this is shaping up to be," Elijah murmured.

"Blame it on the full moon," I grumbled, turning the keys in the ignition and shifting gears to pull out of the dirt plot we'd been parked in. "I do."

"Because you're a werewolf?" he asked curiously.

"No," I replied, "because it makes _all_ people fucking crazy."

* * *

Genevieve chuckled darkly as she looked down at Rebekah's unconscious form. "Oh, Rebekah," she said, her voice soft and deadly. "I'm going to enjoy this. _So_ much."

"Don't destroy her right away," Celeste said warningly. "We need her alive, or else we lose our bait for Klaus."

Genevieve scoffed. "Please. I could chop her into little bloody pieces and he would have no way of knowing it, much less stopping me."

"We cannot be sure of that," Celeste said sternly. "We must not underestimate the Mikaelsons, not this time. Just look at what they've done to Bastiana!" She swept an arm towards another bed pushed up against the far wall.

Almost against her will, Genevieve obeyed, looking over to their coven-sister.

Bastiana, one of witches who had been revived using the magic from the Harvest she herself had begun before being killed by Marcel and his vampires, had been in good health and fairly good spirits only hours before. She had reported back that she'd successfully laid a destructive hex upon the priest Kieran and that if all went well he would be dead and out of their way by the next day.

All had not gone well.

Somehow, the Mikaelsons had found a way to not only break the curse upon Kieran but to cause it to rebound upon Bastiana. At first, the witch had thought it simply exhaustion at first; she had just come back from the dead after all, and had been casting powerful spells right and left since returning to the land of living.

But then she'd begun behaving erratically. Forgetting things, and then lashing out, saying vile things and attacking her own allies in a way that had seemed almost manic.

After thwarting an attempt Bastiana had made at gutting the Shadow witch Sirena and slitting Celeste's throat, they'd had to shoot her up with a heavy-duty tranquilizer and strap her down to the bed they'd carried her to.

It hadn't taken them long, once they had her tied down and quiet, to work out what had happened. They didn't know _how_ it had happened, exactly, but the end result was obvious: Bastiana had been whammied with her own hex. Celeste had theorized that the Mikaelsons had used their allies the Stormes to somehow reflect back the curse, but Sirena had dismissed the idea, saying that neither twin was _that_ good.

Genevieve wasn't sure what to think.

On one hand, it was ridiculous to think that some person who was only _half_ witch could possess enough skill to counter one of Bastiana's spells; Bastiana had been powerful, an Elder of the New Orleans coven. For either Storme sibling to possess enough magic to break the spell, when their power was diluted by their werewolf heritage...it was ludicrous. Preposterous, even.

On the other hand...Zoe and Ezra Storme _had_ survived this long, presumably from more than just luck; they had to have more than a little natural talent for magic, in spite of their werewolf blood. They were also, if Genevieve wasn't mistaken, descended from one of the most powerful witch bloodlines in the world. Which meant that they were almost certainly related to Reginald Storme, a practitioner so strong and fearsome that even his own _allies_ lived in fear of him.

Genevie kept these thought to herself, however; Celeste was preoccupied with arranging ways to utterly ruin Elijah and Sirena was so intent upon the twins that she resembled a terribly focused rabid hyena. And then there was that strange Bernard fellow Sirena had brought along with her. Covered in intricate tattoos, he'd followed after Sirena in a way that reminded Genevieve of a lovesick puppy, hanging onto the blonde woman's every word as if she were the center of his twisted world.

Sirena had taken Bernard with her when she'd left earlier, on her way to meet up with some undead freakshow named Patrick. Genevieve hadn't personally met Patrick yet, and was rather glad of it. She was willing to partake of dark energy and use black magics, but something about a true zombie disgusted her. It was ironic, really, especially considering her own recent revival, but no matter how rationally she approached the subject, she couldn't stop the nausea in her stomach when she thought of a true revenant being loose on the streets of New Orleans.

Swallowing hard and shoving down her doubts, she turned back to Celeste. "Don't worry," she said, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. "I know what I'm doing."

The Mikaelsons needed to be taught their place. To be shown that they weren't as invincible as they'd thought. To be _punished_.

"I'm going to enjoy this," she said again, a nasty smile slowly spreading across her face again as she glanced back down at Rebekah. "You should never have crossed me, Bekah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...that's it for this chapter. XD I can't think of much to say here, other than to please drop me a review (or a PM) and let me know what you thought of the chapter. Chapter 68 will be posted soon; probably a couple days ahead of schedule since my work days got shifted around a bit next week (actually a good thing, because it means I get to cover for my manager so she gets her birthday off! :D). Basically, this means that the next chapter will be out either on Wednesday or Thursday instead of Friday; hooray! Or I might even do a bonus update sometime before then, if the mood strikes me. ;)
> 
> Okay, see you all next time!


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the longest chapter yet? It clocks in at over five thousand words, and has all sorts of action and drama and stuff. And some more of Zoe slipping off her no-black-magic wagon. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, a slight trigger warning in this chapter for...well, Sirena mostly (and all the crazy that goes with her), but also the parts that involve Zoe's magic addiction and some other darker themes and whatnot.

**Chapter 68**

" **Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."**

* * *

We found the right barn not long after our call with Klaus. In the end, it was impossible for us to miss it, because Patrick was standing right out front wearing a smug grin that made me want to rip him into pieces.

 _Well_ , I thought, _maybe if we're lucky I'll have the chance to do just that before we leave._

I kicked open the driver side door and palmed a dagger as I approached the barn.

"Don't do anything reckless," Elijah murmured as he came up behind me, his voice so low that only I could hear.

I just shook my head, not disagreement exactly, more of a general _No promises_ sentiment. Because if getting Hayley back required me to do something reckless...well, I had pretty well-established history of doing stupid things for the greater good.

"Where is she?" I asked Patrick, letting a little of my wolf out in the growl of my voice and the light of my eyes. That side of me was feeling a little wilder than usual on account of the full moon, and rather than feeling nervous about that extra fierceness, I welcomed it wholeheartedly. I was in _precisely_ the right mood to be wild and feral; it made me twice as strong, twice as fearless. Twice as willing to do whatever was necessary to come out on top in whatever battle was about to take place.

Because I knew it would come to a fight, in the end. Sirena and Patrick had grabbed Hayley at the request of the New Orleans coven, I was sure, but I knew better than anyone that the Shadow operatives were playing on no team but their own. Hayley was bait for the Mikaelsons, but also for _me_. They'd been watching us closely enough to have realized that I was firmly entrenched in the Mikaelson family drama, and they were using my loyalty against me. And because I was not the type of person to back down in the face of adversity, this would turn into a fight. A painful and bloody one undoubtedly, if _both_ Patrick and Sirena were here.

 _Oh well_ , I thought, the Missisipi state slogan streaking my mind in an oddly appropriate flash: _Virtute et armis._ By valor and arms.

 _I will not lose here_ , I vowed, and followed after Patrick as he led the way into the barn, with Elijah following close behind me like he was worried about what might happen if we got to be more than two feet apart from one another.

While normally I didn't like people to be quite so close at my back, I found that I quite liked having Elijah there; I knew he'd back me up no matter what. I knew he'd support me, and do his best to keep me safe even as I did something stupid.

There was, I realized, no one else I would rather have at my back right then than him.

Together, we entered the dim barn to see what next horror awaited us.

* * *

Ezra paced the perimeter of the room anxiously, pausing occasionally to check on Kieran, who had lapsed into a more natural slumber. Cami was still sitting at her uncle's bedside, and if the look on her face was anything to go by, she would be sitting there for quite some time yet.

That was fine with Ezra. If she stayed put, it made keeping an eye on both her and Kieran that much easier. Even so, he couldn't help but chew on his lip and tug nervously at his hair; Cami and Kieran were safe here with him watching over them, but Zoe and Elijah were about to deliberately storm into a hostage situation and fight against Sirena and Patrick, possibly to the death. And now Klaus was out there, too, charging off to a meeting with another evil witch on the off-chance that said witch might turn over Rebekah.

God, _Rebekah_.

It was killing him that she was in trouble _again_ and he could do nothing to help her. What was it about the women in his life, that they always ended up kidnapped or in mortal peril?

He wished there was something more proactive he could do besides just sit here and fret.

He'd actually tried going along with Klaus, but his friend had stridently vetoed the idea. Since Ezra had been dizzy to the point of collapse and paler than sun-bleached bones at the time of the conversation from the cleansing rituals for Kieran and then the additional wards he'd added to the Abattoir immediately after Elijah had called in with the soul-chilling announcement that Reginald had made contact with Zoe, the argument had become rather one-sided in the end.

Klaus had made him promise to stay and protect Cami for him, and had then zoomed off to God only knew where to meet this Genevieve chick for what was almost definitely a set-up. And not the good kind of set-up, either. Ezra was ninety-nine point nine percent certain that his closest friend was headed straight for some sort of trap.

There wasn't much of anything he could do about _that_ at the moment, either.

So he pulled up a chair and joined Camille at Kieran's bedside, his spare cell phone held loosely in his hand as he glanced back and forth between the man in the bed, the priest's niece beside it, and the clock on the wall.

Occasionally, he'd also glance out the bedroom window, because he had a nagging suspicion that there was trouble lurking somewhere nearby, as well.

* * *

The barn was so gloomy inside that it took my eyes a moment to adjust. My sensitive nose, though, needed no such adjustment period. I could pick up a dozen different scents in just the first breath I took.

The barn itself had a lot of smells you'd associate with a farm building; stale and slightly moldering hay, sawdust, a faint whiff of horses and leather, the faint residual tang of manure and urine, as well as an assortment of other little scents that evaded my ability to individually name, but which together added up to 'barn'.

There was also Patrick's scent heavy in the air, that stomach-churning combination of motor oil and rotting carrion. It was, as always, a smell that was nasty enough to make me gag and dry heave.

Sirena's scent was there, too, the sickly sweet smell of honeysuckle winding through the air and making me curl my lip in distaste. Once my vision adjusted, I saw her across the barn, leaning against a termite-infested post, arms crossed casually and lips curved in a satisfied smirk.

I was relieved to pick up Hayley's scent, as well; I'd been worried about this being yet another trap tat I'd been dumb enough to walk right into, but Hayley really was there. Tied to another support post and gagged, I noticed, but she was conscious and looking pissed so I was going to count it as a win that she was there to begin with.

The final scent I couldn't identify, but I assumed it belonged to the final person, whose figure I could vaguely see in the darkest corner of the room but whose facial features I couldn't manage to make out even though I strained and squinted. Their scent was a strange combination of metal and ink and pain, along with a peculiar burning edge that reminded me of when my brother and I had spent a month in Michigan, living a few blocks away from a power plant that ran on coal fires.

I wondered who the hell this new person was, until he stepped out of the shadows and walked forward to wrap an arm around Sirena's waist in a gesture that was a hundred and ten percent impossible to misinterpret.

"Hello, Bernard," I said pleasantly, barely managing to keep myself from leaping across the barn and tearing out his throat.

This was the man who had murdered the motel clerk all those weeks ago. The tattoo artist who I'd been trying to track down for so long, who Devyn had described as being an asshole with a nasty girlfriend.

Sirena was, I realized, the nasty girlfriend. She had, I supposed, tasked Bernard to eliminate the motel clerk. It made sense, in a sideways think-like-a-psychopath way. Who better to send on a murder mission than your immensely devoted equally insane lover?

The only thing I didn't understand was why. What possible purpose had the motel clerk's death served?

Having that insatiable itch to know, along with the need to start of some sort of conversation in an effort to stall the imminent bloody battle that was coming, I decided just to ask.

But being the prickly person that I was, I was going to get in some verbal jabs first, petty though it was.

"Nice boytoy, Sirena," I said cheerfully, nodding at Bernard, who was six foot seven with platinum blonde hair (presumably dyed because his eyebrows were a darker red-brown color) and well-toned muscles. The only thing that kept him from being GQ material was the distinctive tattoo he had, that stupid snake sitting inside a stupid apple, wrapped within a stupid vine of thorns.

And, okay, the tattoo itself wasn't particularly stupid, but I was fed up with it and what it represented, and I really wanted to just tear out the side of his neck to get rid of that damned ink once and for all.

He needed to pay for killing that innocent motel clerk, after all, and who knows how many others that Sirena had sicced him on.

Sirena didn't bat an eye at my verbal slap to her partner. "Why, thank you," she said, her voice a low purr as she leaned against Bernard and licked her lips. "He is quite the specimen, isn't he?" She smiled at me, and it wasn't a nice smile. "Are you jealous, mongrel?"

I snorted. "Of your heavily inked bad-dye-job boytoy?" I asked scathingly. "Definitely not." I shook my head before leveling a severe glare right at Bernard. "Why did you kill the motel clerk?" I asked him.

"Sirena asked me to," he said simply.

I was moderately aghast at his response. "You flat-out murdered someone because your girlfriend told you to?"

"Sirena is everything to me," Bernard said, and his voice was thick with devotion. "I will always do everything she ever asks of me."

Well, wasn't that just sickeningly sweet and disgustingly horrible. "Even kill people?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

And sure enough..."I will always do everything she ever asks of me," he repeated.

"The prisoner you have in your custody is pregnant," I told him, curious to see just how far this man would go for Sirena. "Would you kill her, too?"

"If Sirena asked it of me," Bernard replied evenly, not looking even a little disturbed by the idea, "yes."

Elijah and I exchanged a look and achieved mutual understanding in an instant.

Bernard was not someone we could leave alive. His loyalty and utter devotion to Sirena was dangerous. He would do absolutely anything she told him to, no matter how heinous the act might be. And I didn't doubt that he'd continue to be a threat even if we managed to eliminate Sirena; he struck me as the type to do desperate things to avenge the woman of his dreams. Never mind that the woman of his dreams was a walking psychotic nightmare fiend.

I tightened my grip on the dagger in my hand, my gaze flickering around the barn interior just to make sure that I'd spotted everyone here. Sirena, Patrick, and Bernard were the threats. Hayley was the hostage. And hopefully, if everything went relatively smoothly (or at least not totally terribly), Elijah and I would be the heroes.

Either that, or we'd all end up dead in the bloodiest way possible. I was willing to risk it, though; the stakes were high but so was the reward. I would fight to the death to defend the people I cared about, and I couldn't be killed so that tipped the odds in my favor already, right?

At least, that was what I told myself as I charged forward and tackled Bernard across the room, shattering apart the temporary suspension of violence we'd had going on during our little conversation.

Everything descended into utter chaos the second I landed my first punch. The sound of Bernard's jaw breaking from the impact of my fist seemed to jolt Sirena into action, and she wasted no time in lunging over and grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking me away from Bernard just before I could plunge my dagger into his heart.

I snarled and whipped my head around, snapping my jaws at her as she dragged me across the barn.

"Mongrel bitch," Sirena shrieked, leaping back and cursing.

"As if I'd actually bite you," I said with a sneer, bouncing to my feet and retrieving the dagger I'd dropped when she'd grabbed. "I can go eternity without tasting the poison that's in you, thank you very much."

"Your brother seemed to like my taste well enough," Sirena taunted, mouth wide in a vicious smile.

"Don't worry," I said flatly, "he's long since outgrown your type."

Her mouth twisted down into a scowl, as if she'd bitten into something incredibly sour. "Bernard," she hissed, "deal with this mutt for me."

"Yes, Sirena," Bernard said obediently, then jumped forward with a switchblade in one hand and a small hatchet in the other.

I danced backwards, glancing out of the corner of my eye to see Elijah fighting with Patrick; their battle seemed to be a bizarre combination of wrestling and Tag, with maybe a bit of Twister thrown in. Part of me wanted to go over and fight beside Elijah, protect him from the heavy hits Patrick was getting in on him, but I had more than enough to handle on my own with Sirena and her psycho boytoy.

So I refocused my attention on my own fight, and after parrying a handful of blows and having most of my own attacks blocked, I stepped back, feinted to one side, and then took advantage of the opening provided for me when Barnard moved one way, thinking to intercept my feinted attack.

Seizing my chance before it could pass me by, I flung my dagger at Bernard and let a small howl of triumph roll up my throat and out of my mouth when the blade flew true and struck him in the side, just below his ribs.

Bernard staggered, and collapsed to the ground looking shocked, as if actually getting injured was something he'd never even considered. "Sirena," he gasped, glancing over at his lover with wide, frightened eyes. "It hurts."

A faint look of regret flashed across her face, but it was gone again so fast that I was almost convinced I hadn't seen it. And the actual emotion itself must have been just as fleeting for her, because the very next thing she did was turn her back on him and resume her attack on me, as if she couldn't care less that her current lover was bleeding out on a barn floor.

What I should have done then was dash forward, pull out my second dagger, and slit Bernard's throat. End him once and for all, to remove the threat he posed.

But...I hesitated. He just looked so pathetic, sprawled on the ground with that lost expression as he clutched at his wound in an attempt to staunch the blood that was pouring from the wound. He may have been a murderous asshole with questionable taste in women, but did he really deserve to die alone and in agony?

 _What is wrong with you?_ I demanded of myself. _You've never cared about your enemies before. Kill them and move on, that's the policy. Don't hesitate, don't regret._ It was the only way to stay sane.

So I shoved down the remorse and regret and reached for my second dagger.

My hesitation cost me, though. I may have only frozen for a few seconds, but seconds can make all the difference when you're in a fight for your life.

Sirena had taken advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration to spin up a spell, a nasty little swirling dervish of fire that she proceeded to send spinning straight at me. I leapt to the side in an effort to dodge, but the little fire twister just followed my movement, lurching towards with a ferocious hunger.

I managed to summon up a shield around myself just before the fire engulfed me, but it was a flimsy thing. Even as I crouched down and covered my head with my arms, I could feel parts of my magical forcefield buckling and breaking apart.

It wasn't going to hold up against Sirena's fire twister. And since I didn't want to become a crispy critter, I had to think of something else fast, before my shield failed completely and fire consumed me.

I tried reinforcing the shield first, but I couldn't seem to get my magic to work right; I would try to wrangle some energy and direct it to a weak spot in the shielding, but the energy would slip away, leaving me right back at square one. I tried this a few more times, with growing frustration as each attempt failed.

I didn't understand what was happening; I had the magic and I had the willpower. Why wasn't it working?!

Maybe, I realized , it was too simple. Maybe...I would need to do something more powerful.

A slight niggle of worry reared its head then, because using powerful magic seemed like maybe...not such a great idea. I'd been doing all sorts of powerful magic lately, and I had indisputably enjoyed it. And it seemed a little too convenient that the second I encountered a problem my immediate instinct was to pull out the big guns.

 _You're over-thinking it_ , I told myself. _It's not a bad thing to pull out strong magic when you_ _ **need**_ _to. It's not like you're doing it just because you_ _ **want**_ _to._

I wasn't, right?

...right?

 _Enough!_ I snapped at myself, feeling my skin tighten as the heat pressed down on my still-weakening shields. There wasn't time for me to wallow in self-doubt; I had to do something fast to save myself or resign myself to the fire eating me up and spending the next chunk of my eternity screaming in a burn ward.

Since self-preservation is the most powerful instinct known to man and beast, I opted to do whatever the hell I had to do to keep myself alive and whole.

I reached down deep to the reserves of my magical strength and tapped into the dark energy that was lurking there. I pulled on it, drawing it to the surface, letting it rise up and wash through my body.

At first I felt a little sick, because it was a lot of power and most of it was dark. But once the initial feeling of wrongness passed, I felt...better. _Stronger._ As if I could swat away my enemies with one hand and crush the world with the other.

But I didn't want to crush the world, I reminded myself. Just my enemies. So I redirected my attention to the collapsing shield protecting me and the ferocious inferno it was protecting me from. I could vaguely sense the others in the barn beyond the fire; I couldn't see them, but I could sense the blob of death magic that was Patrick, and the werewolf energy that was Hayley. Sirena was like a poisonous brightspot to my senses, while Bernard's energy was flickering like a wavering candle flame; he had more life left that I'd expected for someone bleeding out so quickly, though, so I wondered if Sirena had gone back to help him after all, thinking that her fire spell would eat me up without any trouble.

Well, no matter. I'd deal with them both soon enough, in a very permanent way. First, though, to deal with the fire.

I sucked the energy from my shield back into myself, dropping it entirely. The fire dervish, hungry to consume me, rushed forward at once, spinning and crackling. I let it advance for a second, then tugged again on the energy thrumming through my body. " _F_ _lammas exstinguere_ ," I shouted, thrusting a hand forward to let the power blast out from my fingertips.

The fire fought against me for a moment; the spell was Sirena's and should have obeyed only her own will and direction. But I was pissed and channeling more power than she was; I repeated my incantation for the flames to extinguish and poured more energy into both my spell and the fire itself, bending it to my will. It twisted and fought me, not wanting to heed my orders, but I pressed down on it, stifling it and pushing on it until the tether it had to Sirena snapped and shattered, and the spell dissipated, the flames guttering and then going out entirely as my counter-spell smothered what remained.

As the fire vanished, I finally managed to see what was going on around me again. Sirena, as I'd suspected, had returned to Bernard's side and had cauterized his wound somehow; he was now standing again, pale and sweating, but otherwise whole and ready to continue fighting. Sirena herself was looking a little worse for wear; her skin was a sickly color, like she'd gotten sudden food poisoning and was about to throw up; I assumed it was from the abrupt way she'd lost control of the fire dervish. Having a spell you were actively tied to just snap and break the way the fire dervish had when I'm destroyed it could sometimes cause a nasty backlash wave for the original magician. I didn't feel even a little bit guilty for making her so ill; I felt only viciously pleased that I'd caused her pain. Part of it was the normal me, wanting to hurt Sirena, make her suffer for the pain she'd caused my brother. But there was another darker part of me that savored her agony in a way that was not quite...right. It reminded me of the way my uncle sounded when he spoke of seeing me and my brother again, and that both disgusted and alarmed me.

I was nothing like my uncle. I didn't delight in the pain of others the way he did, I did not go out of my way to make people suffer. I was _not_ my uncle.

At least that was what I told myself. Deep down, I wasn't so sure; the darkness swirling inside me right then seemed to warp things and affect my perspective. All I wanted was to rain down hellfire upon my enemies and see them writhe and twist in utter agony and despair before I ended their putrid lives once and for all.

It was, the more normal part of me realized, really not my usual attitude, even towards my enemies. I tried to cling to that more reasonable part of myself, the Zoe who didn't want to cause people pain, the Zoe who just wanted to protect the people she cared about, the Zoe who would give almost anything to just be left the hell alone to live her life.

The Zoe who loved Elijah.

Where, I wondered suddenly, _was_ Elijah?

I'd lost track of him sometime during the fighting and fire-breaking, and with all the smoke and haze in the barn now I couldn't see far enough to make out where he was. And since his vampirism negated out any magic he had in him, he was a blank spot to my magical senses.

But that wasn't, I remembered, the only way I had of sensing him. There was the bond. The fickle, inexplicable bond that tethered us together. I reached into my wolf magic, and struggled for a moment as the wolf in me woke up and rebelled at the dark energy swirling inside my skin. My wolf didn't like the way my magic was drifting, didn't want me going dark like that. Going dark and losing control went hand in hand, and losing control was something I'd been striving hard to avoid ever since Seattle; my wolf knew that, and reacted accordingly, not letting me tap any further into my wolfside until I let go of the darkness creeping across my soul.

In the choice between Elijah and the darkness, Elijah won, hands-down, no contest. I let go of the shadows, letting them recede so that they were present but not at the forefront of my consciousness, and embraced my wolf magic instead, letting the wildness and pack magic flow through me in place of the darkness.

And once my wolfside was satisfied with the amount of dark energy I'd released, some if not all of it, I was able to locate the bond between me and Elijah, that connection that felt like warmth and safety and fierce protective love.

I basked in the feeling of the bond for a brief moment, and then had a very abrupt panic attack because at the end of the bond I could sense Elijah. And he was unconscious and vulnerable.

Letting the bond guide me through the gloom in the barn, I found him sprawled on the ground, a wooden stake plunged through his chest. Patrick, I realized, must have gotten in a lucky hit sometime during their fight. Sick with fear and worry, I grasped the end of the stake and yanked it out of Elijah's body, hurling it to the side carelessly.

"Elijah, Elijah, Elijah," I said frantically, murmuring his name over and over again as I bent over him and cupped his face in my hands. "Please wake up. Please, _please._ "

There was no response. Not so much as a twitch of an eyelid or a breath of air form his lips. My heart thudding erratically in my chest, and I was about to try waking him up again when suddenly someone was yanking me away from Elijah and tossing me across the room.

I went crashing into a stack of moldering bales of hay and tumbled to the ground. Struggling to my feet, I saw that Bernard had evidently recovered enough to rejoin the fight; it was he who had tossed me around like a Frisbee. Sirena, I saw as I peered through the smoke-haze, was on the verge of collapse and was being supported by Patrick, who was also looking very battle-worn; Elijah had torn off one of his arms, and his dead body was not reacting well to the loss of the limb. The flesh around the shoulder joint was sloughing off and the blood pouring from the wound was clotted and black and smelled so terrible it defied explanation.

Sirena and Patrick were unable to continue on, so they'd sent in Bernard, who was currently the least damaged. _Chickenshits_ , I thought blackly. _They're too cowardly to fight when there's a chance they can't win._ My contempt for them stirred up the dark energy again, bringing that anger and wrath to the forefront once more, and I found myself embracing it just a little, instead of shying away from it like I should have.

Before engaging with Bernard, though, I darted slightly to my right and yanked at the ropes that were keeping Hayley bound to the support post. "Get the hell out of here," I told her, tossing the ropes to the ground and shoving her towards the door.

"I am not just leaving you here-"

"Hayley, _go!_ " I snarled. "You're pregnant, for fuck's sake, go wait in the damn car!"

She growled at me, standing her ground. "I am not leaving you here," she repeated stubbornly.

"You're not," I snapped, dragging her over to Elijah even as I kept an eye on Bernard's advance in my peripheral vision. "You're taking Elijah with you, okay? Take him with you to the car, and wait for me there."

And still she shook her head. "I'm staying," she insisted. "You came here to rescue me. I'm not so much of a bitch that I can leave my rescuer behind to save myself."

I found it unbelievably frustrating that she'd found her inner hero just in time for it be a nuisance rather than a help. "Hayley," I said, trying to put as much patience into my tone as I could muster, "you are pregnant. Pregnant women are not supposed to be lifting heavy boxes, much less fighting. For the love of all that is holy, _please_ go wait in the damn car!"

I didn't have a chance to hear her answer, because Bernard chose that moment to charge at us with two wicked-looking blades in his hands. I abandoned my argument with Hayley and jumped forward to meet him, blocking his attacks and trying to knock his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick.

He dodged, though, and hurled one of his daggers past me at Hayley. She managed to duck down out of the way, but the near miss stoked the furnace of my fury, and the magic in me surged up on response.

I was so fucking done with this fight.

" _M_ _ergunt in sanguinem_ ," I roared, and poured everything I had into it. Every bit of fury, every drop of wrath. All the fear and the pain and the hate. I poured it all into the spell, and watched in equal parts horror and satisfaction as the spell erupted from me and hit Bernard.

At first all it did was knock him back a step or two. Then the real effect hit, and he fell to the ground with a choking sound. Then he started coughing up blood, first only a mouthful or two, but then it came spewing out of his mouth like a geyser. He threw up blood, again and again, and after a moment he was heaving so hard that the blood vessels in his eyes burst and he was crying tears of blood. And then there was blood running from his ears and nose, too, and not long after that he was writhing on the ground in a pool of his own blood, mouth wide and gasping as he tried and failed to get air into his lung.

A few moments later, he was dead, his eyes staring sightlessly upwards as his body went slack and limp, blood still tricking from the corner of his lips.

Drown in blood, I'd commanded.

And he had.


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm sure you've noticed by now, we've strayed from the canon storyline more than a little. I mean, the basics are still in place, but a lot of everything else is sort of up for grabs at the moment. XD I do have a plan, though! Mostly. XD Seriously, though, I hope everything's okay and (relatively) believable for you guys, for the most part at least.
> 
> This chapter is shorter than the previous one, which isn't surprising since that one was much longer than normal. XD But this chapter deals with some of the immediate aftermath of Zoe's killing of Bernard and then switches over to Klaus's meeting with Genevieve, which goes...well, I can't say too much without giving anything away, but I'll just say that it ends badly and leave it at that. ;D Anyway, read on, and enjoy!

**Chapter 69**

" **There's always that one stupid mistake that changes everything."**

* * *

I guess Sirena must have cared about Bernard in some capacity after all, because when she saw that he was dead, she screamed like a banshee.

She screamed and raged and hurled vile curses at me when she saw his unmoving corpse sprawling in a pool of blood. She even lunged forward and tried to attack me, but Patrick stopped her, grabbing her with his remaining arm and slinging her across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Not now," he told her as he sprinted for the exit. "We'll pay her back later."

I stepped forward, intending to chase after them and deliver a painful end to them just as I had to Bernard, but Hayley's frantic voice stopped me.

"Zoe, Elijah's still not waking up," she called out. "He should have recovered by now, right? Zoe?"

Panic and worry crashed down on me, the fear washing over me like an icy bucket of water that had been dumped over my head. The shock and alarm was so potent and so powerful that it washed away the shadows that were wrapping around my heart.

Elijah...was in trouble. Elijah...wasn't waking up, even though the stake had been removed.

My darkness under my skin tried to surge back up, making me think thoughts of Sirena and Patrick, of blood and pain and revenge. But it was no match for my love for Elijah. My love for him was, for now at least, stronger than the darkness lurking within me, and so the shadows burst apart and receded under the powerful force of my bond with Elijah.

I staggered across the barn, the exhaustion from the battle and the magic catching up with me at the worst possible time and making my limbs heavy and my muscles weak as I struggled to get to Elijah and Hayley on the other side of the barn.

I ended up collapsing halfway there and literally had to crawl the rest of the way. Hayley was talking to me as I went, anxiously asking what was wrong and what could she do to help; she didn't seem to want to leave Elijah's side in case his condition changed, but her worry for me was no less obvious. I just waved her off, too tired and sick to explain, too desperate to get to Elijah to care about anything other than being by his side.

I don't know how long it took, but eventually I made it to where Hayley held Elijah in her lap. Her holding him like that would have bothered me a few days before...hell, even just _the_ day before, but all the petty resentments and jealousies seemed like a million years ago now, as if they belonged to another life, another person.

Now all I wanted to was to make sure Elijah was okay and go home. And hopefully sleep for the next ten years because I was starting to feel my age for once.

"Why isn't he waking up?" Hayley asked my worriedly as I came up beside her and peered down at Elijah, trying to ignore the pounding in my skull and the nausea churning in my stomach.

"I don't know," I said hoarsely. "How long did it take him to wake up the last time he got staked?" It had been ages ago, back with Eve in the bayou...I couldn't seem to remember how long it had taken Elijah to regain consciousness, no matter how hard I wracked my brain; I hoped the memory loss was exhaustion-related and not something more sinister.

"It was a couple hours, maybe?" Hayley said uncertainly, giving me a look like she wasn't sure what to expect out of me. Since I wasn't acting at all like my usual self, I couldn't fault her for her concern. "What should we do?"

I reached out to touch Elijah's cheek gently, then pulled away. "Help me carry him to the car," I said, struggling to stand. "We can't stay here for hours, just waiting for him to wake up. Better to be back at the Abattoir...it's more secure," I panted, feeling light-headed as I finally rose up to my full height. "There's no telling...when Sirena and Patrick...might come back."

Hayley nodded and quickly scrambled to her feet, dragging Elijah up from the barn floor and looping one of his arms around her shoulders as I braced him on the other side. Between the two of us, we managed to shuffle out to the car in relatively good time, and heaved our vampire into the backseat with as much care as too exhausted werewolf women could muster up.

Since I was on the verge of passing out, I handed Hayley the keys and plonked my ass down in the shotgun seat, content to trust that Hayley would get us home safely.

She slid into the driver's seat without objection and turned the key in the ignition. The Camaro came to life with a low purr, and then we were pulling back onto the road and heading towards the city. Hayley, apparently uncomfortable with the tense silence in the car, or possibly just uncomfortable with me and not knowing what to say about any of the nastiness that had just gone down, turned on the radio and dialed it to a local Cajun and zydeco station, leaving the volume on low as we cruised down the road.

Since I had no idea what to say about anything at the moment, either, I just leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, praying that nothing else would go wrong today.

* * *

Klaus approached the location of the meet with no small amount of suspicion.

He had no idea who this Genevieve witch was or what she had to do with the New Orleans coven, but he agreed with his brother and the Stormes that it was more than likely a trap.

Even so, he couldn't _not_ go, not when this witch claimed to have Rebekah in her custody. He and his sister weren't always on the same side, but no matter what happened between them he had always and would always love her.

So went to meet with Genevieve, even knowing it was a trap, because there was nothing he wouldn't do to help his sister, not when it really mattered.

Besides, he was Niklaus Mikaelson, the Original hybrid. Even if it was a trap, there was nothing the witch could do to him that he couldn't handle; there was nothing in the world that could truly hurt him, not anymore.

When Genevieve finally arrived at the abandoned power plant on Market Street, a full two hours after the agreed upon meeting time, Klaus was impatient and irritated and inclined to tear her head from his shoulders just on principle alone.

"You do realize that I am probably not the best person to keep waiting, yes?" he asked testily. "And that I am also possibly the most deadly person in this city at the moment."

The slender red-headed woman gave an infuriatingly sly smile. "You do realize that I am the only person who can take you to your sister, yes?" she countered. "So if you'll kindly shut the hell up, maybe we can move on from the implied threats and proceed to the bargaining stage."

Klaus narrowed his eyes at her, unsettled by her easy demeanor and lack of posturing; she hadn't even attacked him on sight, which was a first as far as the witches in New Orleans went. He was accustomed to violence and bloodbaths; so far this meeting was going smoothly, and that troubled him. "What do you want?" he asked her warily.

Her smile widened. "World peace would be nice, but I'll settle for your friend Marcel. He and I, along with your sister, have some unfinished business to... _discuss._ "

Klaus did not quite like her tone of voice. "And what business would that be?" he asked suspiciously.

Her smile turned nasty, even as she widened her eyes in a parody of innocence. "You mean you don't _know_? Your precious baby sister didn't share the truth with you yet? Even after _all_ this time?"

"What are you talking about?" he growled, growing frustrated again. "What hasn't she told me?"

"Anything and everything, it would seem," Genevieve replied, eyes shining with dark amusement. "Well, I must say, it's an interesting development I hadn't foreseen, you not even having a hint of the truth. I _was_ just going to have some fun with Marcel and your sister...but now that _you're_ here..." Her smile returned, and this time there was something dangerous and deadly in it. "Well, this will be _so_ much more fun than what I originally had planned."

And then before he could react, she thrust her hand out and uttered an incantation. Something sharp and metallic flew through the air from the folds of her jacket, and as it soared through the air and glinted in the light he realized it was Papa Tunde's dagger; the witches must have claimed it after killing him and before dumping the body.

Klaus tried to dodge the flying blade, but Genevieve uttered another spell, one that froze his legs and rooted him in place. Unable to move out of the way, there was nothing he could do other than brace for the impact of Tunde's blade. He had a nasty suspicion that something had been done to the weapon, to make it more than a normal dagger; he just hoped that whatever it was wouldn't be too terribly awful. Surely he'd be able to handle a little pain. He was accustomed to pain, after all, had been all but raised in its embrace.

But the pain from the enchanted dagger was ten times worse than he'd anticipated. No, not ten times worse...not even a hundred time worse. It was hundred _thousand_ times worse than anything he'd ever have imagined as the blade stabbed into him and sunk into his flesh. The metal burned and twisted as it dug into him, sending sharp bolts of agony cascading through his entire body.

He screamed, the pain of it driving him to his knees.

 _You had better not do anything foolish_ , his brother had said to him.

 _Please don't do anything stupid_ , Zoe had requested of him.

Be careful, was what they had been saying, in their own way.

 _Looks like I've let the both of you down_ , he thought as the pain rose up and drowned him in a red haze of misery and anguish. And still the regret stayed with him, lingering.

The last thing he saw before unconsciousness claimed him was Genevieve walking over, a satisfied smirk on her face as she went over and peered at him intently.

"This really is," she said, "going to be _so_ much fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, yeah, that happened. XD
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. An interesting tidbit of knowledge, that power plant on Market Street where Klaus went to meet with Genevieve? Real place! I'll post a picture of it as a screenshot later this week sometime (on both my tumblr and the Inevitable: Screenshots series on Archive of Our Own), so keep an eye out for it. :D
> 
> In any case, pretty please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter; it's shorter than the last one (which really just makes it average since 68 was a long beast) but important stuff happened, so I'm eager to hear your feedback! :)


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes, it's been a while! Anyway, on a more story-related note: nobody panic, Elijah is fine! Really. He just didn't take well to being staked, that's all. And Zoe tends to freak out in a major way whenever anything happens to Elijah, so that might have made things seem more dire than they really were. XD
> 
> In any case, enjoy the chapter! I can't say much without giving away plot points, but I will say that we have revolving perspectives throughout the chapter. We start off with Zoe, shift over to Ezra for a bit, then a little of Bekah, a little of Celeste (I know, weird, right?), and then we shift back to Zoe for the end of the chapter. Why so many perspective shifts, you ask? Because I'm overzealous, that's why. XD
> 
> Okay, I'll shut up now. Really I will. Read on! people! Seventy-chapters! Can you believe it?!

**Chapter 70**

" **Never was anything great achieved without danger."**

* * *

Elijah woke up not long after we returned to Abattoir. Just in time, in fact, for Ezra to inform us that Klaus hadn't returned from his meeting with the witch Genevieve and wasn't picking up his phone.

This update was followed immediately by an announcement from Marcel, who had been off doing God only knew what to try and find a way to bring back Davina. "I had someone keeping an eye on the meeting with Genevieve," he told us, gesturing to a scrawny-looking vampire I'd never seen before. "He says he saw Klaus get dropped. Went down screaming, before he could even fight back."

"Impossible," Elijah said at once, looking faintly offended by the idea of his brother getting taken down so easily.

"I know what I saw," the scrawny vampire said stubbornly, not backing down under Elijah's stern glower. "That witch, she got him with some knife she had hidden in her coat. Made it fly through the air and stab into his chest. Looked like it hurt somethin' awful," he added. "He screamed like there were demons tearin' at him."

Elijah winced, just shaking his head. "It's not possible," he muttered.

"Let's move past that, okay?" I said tiredly, wishing I'd found something stronger than ibuprofen to take when we'd gotten back, "since obviously it _is_ possible." I did wonder, though, why Ezra and I hadn't sensed anything; Klaus was our pack member, practically our Alpha. Shouldn't we have felt _something_? Shouldn't we have sensed that something was wrong through the pack bonds?

Was it that Klaus hadn't acknowledged his position as our Alpha yet, or was there something wrong _with_ our pack bonds? Or was it just _me_ unable to sense anything, as scrambled up as I was with dark magic and exhaustion?

I shook my head, not willing to waste time working it out when we needed to be focusing on getting Klaus and Rebekah back. "What else do we know?" I asked out-loud. "What are they planning to do with him and Bekah?" I shook my head again. "Actually, scratch that, it doesn't matter right now; the real question is where did they take Klaus?" I glanced over at our news-bearer, the rawboned vampire whose name I didn't know. "Do you know where Genevieve went with him?"

"I don't know," the lean vampire said. "I got spooked by the fightin', so I skedaddled before she took him away."

Elijah spun around to pin Marcel in a furious glare. "Marcellus," he said, tone dangerous.

"Ease up, will you?" Marcel snapped. "I got guys out looking for him now."

Elijah cursed and flung a nearby table against the wall.

"Elijah!" Hayley said scoldingly, looking alarmed by his outburst.

But Elijah had already recovered his composure, tugging on his sleeves to straighten them as he pinned Marcel and his vampires in a commanding look. "Not only do they have Niklaus," Elijah said, his voice so menacing that I would have instinctively taken a step away from him had I not trusted him completely, "they also have Rebekah. Every one of you will help me to find them," he said to the assembled group, his tone leaving no room for argument of any kind.

"And then what?" Marcel asked anyway, crossing his arms and looking at Elijah challengingly.

Elijah gave a smile that promised painful things for his enemies. "And then I'm going to kill them all."

* * *

Ezra paced back and forth as Hayley and Cami filled each other in on what they'd missed during their respective adventures, his mind running in circles as he tried to think of what their next move should be.

Now he'd lost not only the woman he was more than halfway in love with, but his best friend as well.

 _What a banner day this is shaping up to be_ , he thought sarcastically.

And as if those kidnappings weren't enough to deal with, his sister had not only fallen off her I-will-not-use-magic wagon, she'd jumped off it with rocks tied to her ankles and no parachute. He just hoped she wouldn't start sinking right away; from what Hayley had said, Zoe had used a seriously nasty spell to kill Sirena's sidekick Bernard. From what Hayley described, Ezra was pretty certain the magic his twin had used straddled a very fine line between powerful attack magic and _dark_ attack magic.

He hoped it was just the desperation of the situation that had driven Zoe to do such a thing, but it worried him all the same. The absolute last thing he needed right now was for his sister, his anchor, to go off the reservation and turn into the very thing she hated, a dangerous warlock with no regard for life. That would destroy not only Zoe, but him as well.

After a while, pacing wasn't quite enough to keep himself from having a meltdown, so he quietly excused himself from the room, leaving Hayley and Cami to their talk by Kieran's bedside.

He quickly hustled down the stairs and headed for the courtyard, hoping to find something to do to occupy himself until someone came up with a plan more detailed than 'Find the New Orleans coven and kill them all'. Because while he could heartily get on board with that plan, there was some ambiguity in how to carry it out that left him frustrated.

So he went down to the courtyard and started organizing Marcel's vampires in search groups; since Elijah had conscripted them into his search for his siblings, they might as well go about it in some organized fashion.

He was in the middle of debating one of the search grids with Diego when suddenly a vaguely familiar face lurched into the courtyard, blood streaming from her ears and nose as she staggered forward, a dark bruise forming around her throat as if she'd been strangled.

"Sophie?" Diego said, recognizing her first. "What the hell happened to you?"

"M-Monique," Sophie choked out, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood. "She just...she just tried to kill me! I don't...I don't know what to do anymore..." She collapsed to the ground with a wailing sob that rose the hairs on the back of Ezra's neck.

He exchanged an alarmed look with Diego and did the only thing he could think of. "Marcel!" he shouted, twisting around so his voice carried upstairs. "Get down here!" As one of the only people still around while Elijah and the rest were out searching for Klaus and Rebekah, Marcel was also the best choice because he was the only one here who had any real connection to Sophie. They'd been lovers at some point, before all of this, so hopefully there was still something there other than hate and betrayal over the Harvest.

Marcel was down the stairs in a rush of vampire speed, and then he was scooping up Sophie in his arms and murmuring to her in a low voice. "Soph, baby, what happened to you?" he asked, cradling her head in his hand as she coughed up blood.

"Monique," she said again, whimpering. "She tried to kill me," she cried, clinging to Marcel and shaking so hard it seemed like she might shake apart. "She t-tried to k-kill me," she repeated, shuddering as she started going into shock and her teeth chattered from a cold that only she could feel. "I managed t-to get away b-before she c-could f-finish the sp-spell...I just...I d-don't...why would she d-do it, Marcel, after everything I've d-done..." Her sobs came harder and faster now, rendering her words almost unintelligible. "Everything I've d-done from the st-start, it's all b-been for h-her, to br-bring her h-home. Wh-why would she do this?!"

Marcel just held her close and rocked her back and forth, smoothing her blood-soaked hair away and out of her face as she struggled to breath and work through her hysterics. "It's going to be okay," he told her. "We're going to make it right."

"How?" Sophie wailed, looking utterly inconsolable. Not that Ezra could blame her; she'd literally done everything up to and including selling her soul in order to bring her beloved niece back to life, and what had she gotten in return? A murder attempt.

 _What a spectacular mess all of this is_ , Ezra thought, then turned on his heel and left Marcel to deal with Sophie.

There was nothing he could offer that would comfort the girl; his talents would be better put to use in tearing the city apart to find the missing members of his pack.

* * *

Rebekah came awake feeling like her body was on fire. Glancing down at herself, she saw that her skin was torn and ragged in places from the werewolf bites she'd acquired during the attack on the party.

 _Bloody stupid wolves_ , she thought groggily, _trusting the word of those damn witches._ She had no doubt that the New Orleans coven had betrayed the bayou wolves in the end, not lifting the curse as they'd promised. _And it would serve them right, too._

She tumbled down off the cot she'd been lying on, and struggled to stand, her legs shaking badly but somehow managing to hold her weight as she staggered to the door of the small, dank room she was being kept in. To her surprise, the knob turned easily under her hand; relieved, she wasted no time to shoving the door open and rushing through it.

Only to be met with a very sharp stake in the heart as a familiar face loomed up out of the darkness.

"Genevieve," she gasped, clutching at the other woman as she staggered and fell.

"Rebekah," Genevieve said, sounding delighted to see her up and about. "Tell me you're not leaving already!" Her joyful smile turned sly and unpleasant. "I thought we might reminisce. You know, relive the good old days. What do you say?"

Rebekah opened her mouth to say some choice words about old friends and skank witches, but Genevieve had struck true with her stake, and unconsciousness rose up and swamped her in blackness before she could get out a single word.

* * *

Celeste watched with a small satisfied smile as the Original hybrid thrashed in his sleep, his body taut and straining even in unconsciousness as Papa Tunde's dagger continued to do its work, burrowing deeper and deeper into Klaus Mikaelson's body.

Klaus groaned, stirring and muttering, and Celeste double-checked on the restraints binding him in place before turning and leaving the room.

If everything went according to plan, all of the Mikaelsons would be eliminated once and for all very, very soon.

Elijah and I didn't hesitate as we located the current meeting place for the leaders of the New Orleans coven and stormed inside. Even as worn out as we were, there would be no stopping us until we got what we wanted.

So we strode in without any uncertainty whatsoever, kicking open the doors and stalking to the table where a handful of familiar faces sat in conference.

Among them was Monique, Sophie's back-from-the-dead niece. If she looked startled by our sudden entrance, she didn't show it; her face was as expressionless as a storefront mannequin's, and I briefly wondered if she'd come back from death with pieces of her humanity missing, or if she'd always secretly been this emotionless and had just hidden it well.

"You are disturbing our meeting," Monique said tonelessly, looking at us with a blank face.

"I'd say that we're sorry," I said dryly, letting some of my lingering anger crackle in my voice, "but we're really not."

Monique flickered a look over at me before glancing back to Elijah. "What do you want?"

"My siblings have been taken," he said, his voice tight with barely contained wrath. "Where are they?"

Monique just blinked at him and said nothing, a small smirk turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Leave this place," one of her coven-sisters said, jumping to her feet and striding towards us. "We have nothing to say to you monsters!"

I flicked my wrist and sent her sailing backwards with a jolt of psychokinetic energy. "And I have nothing to say you skanks. So why don't you just answer the question, and we can all go our separate ways?"

"Zoe Storme," Monique said with a knowing look, "why are you on _their_ side? We would welcome you among our number, if you would but embrace your true strength."

"Nah," I said, making sure not to let my voice shake, "I'm strong enough already on my own, thanks."

"Hmm," was all Monique said, still looking at me in a way that made me squirm, as if she could see inside me and knew exactly how hard I was fighting against the darkness under my skin, how desperate I was to stay myself and not become a monster like my uncle.

"Monique," Elijah said sharply, drawing her attention away from me and back to him, "I strongly recommend that you give me what I want. Unless, of course," he went on, "you'd like for me to level this place and everything in it."

"That won't be necessary," Monique said, curling her lip at him. "I have a message for you from Celeste." She thrust her hand out and uttered an incantation.

I jumped as the magic washed over the man beside me and he tugged at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. "What is it?" I asked anxiously. "What did she do?"

Elijah unbuttoned his shirt and peered at his skin intently. "I'm not sure," he muttered.

Scowling, I leaned forward to get a better look.

Tattooed across his chest was the name Theresa, written in an elegant scrolling script. And even as I watched more names appeared on his skin, including one that was more familiar to me, Sabine.

But what did Sabine have to do with anything, I wondered. Other than being a New Orleans witch, what possible connection could she have to the insanity that was surrounding us?

"To find what you're looking for," Monique told us, "follow the path she left behind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, and that's where we're stopping for now. Don't worry, we'll be picking up with the rest of episode fourteen right away in the next chapter; I just figured this was a good place to stop since it's before things take another nosedive into some serious stuff. Anyway, drop me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter. Good, bad, so-so? Is everyone okay with me leaving Sophie alive? I know her survival might rub some people the wrong way, but it always upset me that Monique killed her, so I figured I'd "fix" that. Besides, this way I can maybe pull off a Marcel/Sophie romance so that Marcel won't be in the way of EzBekah anymore. ;D


	71. Chapter 71

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up right where we left off last time, with Rebekah and Klaus both in Genevieve's custody and everyone else racing to find them and rescue them. This chapter was both fun and distressing for me, because it's one of the parts of the stories where the things that are happen are based on the original canon of the show. Which is fun, because I can work from the episode and that gives me a guideline and some help in terms of dialogue. But it's also distressing, because I've drifted just far enough away from canon in terms of the plot itself that some things get changed up and switched around a bit. XD That being said, the important bits stay (mostly) the same, if somewhat tweaked. ;) Oh, and we have revolving viewpoints again, because there's a lot going on. XD
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 71**

" **The truth may hurt for a little while, but a lie will hurt forever."**

* * *

Rebekah came awake gasping and in complete and total agony. The pain only abated when Genevieve made a reappearance and retrieved the stake she'd left buried in Rebekah's chest.

Rebekah craned her neck around to see Genevieve take some of the blood on the end of stake and add it to whatever vile potion she was brewing in the little bowl she'd surrounded with foul-smelling black candles.

"What the hell are you doing, you ruthless bitch," she demanded, trying to put as much venom into her voice as possible.

Genevieve just made a small sound of false sympathy. "Poor Rebekah," she said lightly. "you should rest. You're looking a little peaked. Of course," she continued, "that's to be expected given the impressive amount of werewolf venom in your system."

"If I weren't so sick I'd rip your bloody head off," Rebekah snarled, lunging up from the bed only to collapse back onto it almost immediately as her vision swam and her stomach lurched.

"But you _are_ sick," Genevieve replied. "Thankfully, comforting the sick has always been a talent of mine." She gave a gentle smile that had a dark edge to it as she set the bowl down and came over. "And I take care of my friends. We _were_ friends, weren't we, Bekah?"

Rebekah just groaned, eyes rolling back in her head as she passed out again.

Genevieve's smile widened as she pressed a cool washcloth against Rebekah's feverish skin. "Of course we were," she said softly, eyes glinting in the candlelight.

* * *

Elijah and I wasted no time in returning to the Abattoir. We arrived to find Marcel and Ezra teamed up and coordinating all the various search teams and spies that were going out into the city to collect information and reporting back. Whatever enmity had been between them before was clearly forgotten now, as they both worked side by side to bring our loved ones home.

"Anything?" Elijah asked as he came into the courtyard behind me.

"We're putting eyes and ears out everywhere," Ezra replied, glancing up from the marked-up map of the city he'd been examining. "It shouldn't be long before we hear something useful."

"Daywalkers are working every contact we've got," Marcel added. "Cops, dock workers, guys in the Treme. Word is out that anyone trying to earn favor with me gets a lifetime of it if they find them."

"Good," Elijah said. "I need a pen and paper," he added curtly, and then strode away and into the next room.

Marcel stared after him blankly and then followed, a scowl forming on his face. "Hey," he said irritably, "am I taking orders from you now, or are we in this together?"

Elijah began to shrug out of his suit-jacket. "Pen and paper, Marcellus," he snapped. "Now!"

"Please," I tacked on, going over to take Elijah's jacket and drape it over the back of a chair. "He meant to say please."

Elijah just gave me a look.

"You meant to say please," I assured him, patting him on the arm before starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. "Now, try to not be cranky for at least the next five seconds, okay?"

He just huffed out an annoyed breath and called after the retreating Marcel. "Where are Hayley and Camille?"

"Seriously?" I asked teasingly. "I'm all but stripping you naked and you're asking after other women? And here I thought you were the gentleman of the family."

Elijah's tense demeanor softened somewhat and the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile. "I promise not to ask after other women when we do this for real," he replied.

I just rolled my eyes. "You'd better not," I told him. "Otherwise there are some crucial body parts that you'll be sorely missing the morning after."

Marcel returned a moment later, with Hayley hot on his heels; Cami had presumably elected to remain with her uncle and keep an eye on his condition, just in case.

"Zoe, Elijah, you're back!" Hayley said in relief as she came into the room. "Did you find..." She paused mid-motion as she saw me pulling off Elijah's shirt. "...anything." She stared at us. "Is this really the time for that?" she asked.

"It's not what you think," I said hastily, gesturing to the markings all over Elijah's body. "Here, look."

Hayley came closer and peered at the names. "Elijah, what is this?"

"I believe they represent the names of the women Celeste inhabited for the last two centuries," he replied. "Zoe, read off the names so that Hayley can list them."

"I don't understand," Hayley said, staring at the names in confusion even as she accepted the paper and pen Marcel was handing to her. "What's the point?"

"It's called a Devinette," I explained, circling around to see that there were even more names across Elijah's back. "It's kind of like a riddle. The method is pretty old school, but some witch families use them to teach their kids. Once you solve it, it disappears."

"Celeste forced me to choose," Elijah explained, "between the two of you and my siblings. And now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game. To find Klaus and Rebekah," he went on, "we need to solve this riddle. The solution," he said, glancing down at the ink on his body, "lies somewhere in these names."

With a sigh, I set to work on listing off the names, starting with Theresa and working my way through the rest, with Hayley obediently jotting them all down as we went.

"The name next to Sabine," Marcel said once we reached that part, "Annie LaFleur. She's a witch that was shunned from her coven just over a year ago. I never knew why," he added, "but I think it's time we found out."

* * *

Klaus came awake slowly and painfully. His entire body ached and pulsed with an intense level of pain that called to mind distant and hazy memories of the few times he'd fallen severely ill during his human lifetime; his limbs were heavy and not responding to his attempts to move, and even his lungs felt heavy. Just breathing was a monumental task; it felt like his lungs were full of wet cement.

And his stomach...there was a burning pain just underneath his ribs, where the dagger had burrowed through his skin and entered his body. Exhausted, he reached a hand down and traced the ridge of inflamed scar tissue that was all that remained of the wound the blade had caused upon entry.

Suddenly sensing a presence nearby, he turned his head to the side. Panting and weak, all he could do was glare as Genevieve approached.

"You poor thing," she said softly, tsking at his weak appearance. "You look an awful mess."

Klaus was too dizzy and feeble to speak, so all he could do was watch as she went over to a metal tray of medical implements and picked up a long scalpel.

"Don't worry," she said gently as she came over, "I'm here to help."

And then she brought the scalpel down and pressed it into his skin, digging the sharp blade into his skin right where Tunde's dagger had gone into his body.

He hissed as she cut his flesh open, and then screamed himself hoarse when she set aside the scalpel and plunged her arm into his gut, seizing Tunde's dagger and ripping it out of his body. He thrashed and writhed on the bed as she pulled out the blade, tugging on the restraints binding him so hard that the leather and metal bit into the skin of his wrists and created new wounds.

Once Genevieve had finished extracting the dagger, she stepped back and held it loosely in her hands, not seeming the least bit disturbed by anything that had just transpired.

"There," she said sweetly. "Isn't that better?"

He just panted for breath and growled at her, trying to ignore the red-hot pain that was coursing through his body and leaving him so pathetically vulnerable.

He absolutely _hated_ feeling weak and helpless.

* * *

Hayley waited at the Abattoir with Elijah while Marcel and Zoe went out into the city to pump their various contacts for information about Annie LaFleur.

After about a half hour of waiting, they finally had their answers.

"So," Zoe said when she and Marcel phoned in together on a conference call, "I think we've worked out what happened to Annie."

Elijah leaned forward towards Hayley's phone, which she'd set on speaker and put on the table between them. "And?"

"According to the people in her town," Marcel said, "Annie was your typical good girl witch, until one day she wasn't. She was accused of practicing black magic, and shunned by the other members of the coven. A couple people who knew her well said it was impossible that she got into anything dark, but that she left anyway because there was no point in staying once she'd been ostracized like that."

"So she left," Elijah concluded. "Then what happened?"

"Well, I'm not sure what she was doing in the interim," Zoe replied, "but I got in touch with one of my friends in the police department. And he managed to take a peek at the old case files for me. Apparently," she went on, "Annie killed herself. Jumped into the Mississippi from someplace in that park area they call the End of the World."

"Hm," Elijah said thoughtfully. "Celeste was clearly tired of the body and ready to take Sabine's."

"How do you know that?" Hayley asked.

"Because Annie leapt to her death from the very location where Celeste and I had our first kiss," he replied.

A snort from Zoe came in through the call. "Your first kiss was at the End of the World?" she said, sounding amused. "Wow, Elijah, you're such a romantic."

"It wasn't called that at the time," he remarked dryly. "That spot was very romantic, once upon a time."

"Well, I guess it _is_ sort of poetic that she killed herself that way," Hayley said reluctantly. "In a creepy vendetta sort of way."

"All these names," Elijah said, looking down at the list. "All these lives...stolen that Celeste might take her revenge." He shook his head. "We need to stop this." He sighed. "All we can do is follow this list and see where it takes us, I suppose."

"Hey, wait a second," Hayley said, taking the list and peering at it intently. "There's a name on here...Brynne Deveraux?"

"Deveraux like Sophie Deveraux?" Zoe asked. "You think maybe she knows something?"

"I don't want anyone bugging Sophie right now," Marcel said sternly, coming back into the conversation. "She's one wrong step away from completely losing it. Leave her alone."

"It's fine," Hayley said quickly, "I don't need her for anything. It's just, I'm remembering something." She twisted to look at Elijah. "Sophie said that it was her family's bloodline that put the curse on the crescent wolves, but _Celeste_ said that she was the only one that could break it."

"You think that Brynne Deveraux was actually Celeste when she cast the spell," Elijah realized.

"I do," Hayley said, "and if it was really Celeste who did it, then maybe Celeste can still _break_ it."

"Okay," Zoe said, "let's put it on the list of things to ask the bitch when we see her. In the meantime, what's the next name on the list?"

Elijah squeezed Hayley's hand sympathetically; he knew how badly she wanted to help her clan in the bayou. But there was nothing they could do now except gather information and makes plans as best they could. "Some woman named Lydia Westphall. "

Zoe made an annoyed sound, clearly fed up with the seemingly endless list of names. "Okay, hang on. Let me call my police rookie back and see if he can dig anything up."

"We'll be waiting," Elijah said simply, and hit the button to end the call.

* * *

Klaus glared at Genevieve as she undid his restraints and handed him his shirt. It took him longer to put it back on than he would have liked, his muscles weak and trembling. His entire body was shaking as he shrugged into his thin cotton shirt, though he did his best to ignore it. It was like the bruises Mikael had left on him after some of his beatings; if he pretended hard enough that they weren't there, he could almost forget.

Something he couldn't forget, though, was the gaping wound in his abdomen. "My wound isn't healing," he noted, pressing a hand lightly against the injury and wincing as a jolt of pain from the contact lanced through him and left him gasping for breath again.

"Well, that's not surprising," Genevieve remarked. "The amount of dark magic in that blade? It's going to take a while before you're anywhere close to normal."

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Klaus asked, watching as she pulled up a small metal stool and sat down. "The witches back from the dead, seeking vengeance." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why show me kindness?"

She gave him an inscrutable look. "Are you always this suspicious of those who show you kindness?" she asked.

"Yes," he said honestly.

"Hm," she said. "That must be a lonely way to live."

"Answer my question," he snapped.

"Why show you kindness?" She hummed softly as she reached out to touch his face gently. "Why _wouldn't_ I show you kindness?" she said. " _You_ never did anything to me. And the truth is, seeing you like this..." She cast a look at his weakened condition. "I can't help but pity you."

He leaned away from her touch, not enough to risk offending her, but enough to ease the frantic part of him that disliked being touched by those he did not trust. "If you have no quarrel with me," he said hoarsely, "then betray the others and stand with me. I can reward you in ways you cannot possibly fathom."

Genevieve gave a smile that was half delighted and half sad. "Klaus Mikaelson, offering a deal to little ol' me? I should be flattered." She sighed. "But first," she said, standing up and turning away, "we need to have a talk about your sister."

There was something in her voice that made his protective instincts rear up swiftly. "Rebekah is of no concern to you," he said angrily, a growl rumbling up out of his chest. "If you mean to harm her-"

"Ah, the protective brother," Genevieve said breezily, cutting him off. "A shame that loyalty isn't reciprocated. But then," she went on, "I'm no stranger to Rebekah's treachery. Something you and I have in common. Here," she said suddenly, holding out a bowl to him.

He eyed it warily. "What is that?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. "It smells terrible."

She huffed at him. "Drink it," she said. "I'm just trying to help you. Heal you." Her expression took on a slightly grimmer cast. "Get you to see the truth that's been right in front of you for almost a century."

Still, he hesitated.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Drink it," she ordered, thrusting the bowl at him. "Or would you like me to put that dagger back where I found it?"

He shuddered before he could stop himself, and reached for the bowl. Seeing no other choice, he took a sip, fully intending to spit the concoction right back out at the first opportunity.

But Genevieve had clearly anticipated this; before he could spit her potion out, she clapped a hand over his mouth and tipped his head back, forcing him to swallow.

Whatever the potion was, it made him choke as he swallowed it, the liquid burning his throat as it went down.

Genevieve released him and stepped back, looking at him with a critical eye as he gasped and clutched at his throat. "You sister had an unfortunate run-in with some werewolves the other night," she informed him. "I imagine you're tasting the venom in her blood." She picked up the bowl he'd dropped and set it down on the table nearby. "I'm sorry for the discomfort, but it's the only way I can show you what you need to see."

"What," Klaus growled, "are you babbling on about?"

Genevieve gave a slow smile. "In your sister's weakened state, I'll be able to guide her down memory lane. And thanks to that potion you just took, you'll be able to see _everything_. That's how I'm going to have my revenge," she said in satisfaction. "By showing you her betrayal."

And then she came forward and put her hand against his forehead, and then everything spun and swirled around him as he was plunged into a slew of memories that weren't his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was chapter seventy-one, my friends. What did you think of it? Good, bad, so-so? Are you liking all the little Zolijah moments? Do you feel sorry for Klaus? Are you worried about what Klaus'll do to Bekah in upcoming chapters? Are you hoping that the Storme twins will intervene? Are you all still okay with how I'm doing things, just in general? Drop me a review and let me know. ;)
> 
> Next chapter will be up in a week! In the meantime, I've posted another Inevitable Screenshot on my tumblr and here on AO3; it's a picture of the Market Street factory where Klaus went to meet up with Genevieve before she snatched him. I'll be posting another "screenshot" soon, probably tomorrow or Sunday, so keep an eye out! :)
> 
> On a completely unrelated tangent, I'm going to go see Star Trek Beyond tomorrow morning! So excited!


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72**

" ** _It was a mistake_ , you said. But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you."**

* * *

"Lydia Westphall," I said without preamble when Elijah picked up the phone, "was a London witch in town for a business conference. From what I can tell, Celeste can't have possessed her for very long, maybe a week or two at the most."

"What makes you say that?" Elijah asked, and I could almost picture the puzzled frown on his face that would match his curious tone.

"The fact that she got herself killed in a very suspiciously timed car crash.".

"Suspicious?" Elijah echoed.

"Yeah," I replied, glancing down at the scrap of paper I'd taken notes on. "She had no living relatives other than a son back in London. His name wasn't on the record for some reason, but he filed a missing persons report for his mother just a couple of days before her car accident; apparently she was supposed to return home right away after the conference but didn't, and didn't so much as call him for well over a week. Now, it _could_ have been a coincidence that she got into a fatal head-on crash immediately after someone reported her missing, but somehow I doubt it."

"Celeste was covering her tracks," Elijah realized. "She made a mistake, selecting someone like Lydia as a host, someone who would be missed. She had to kill the body and move on before someone truly caught on."

"That was my take on it, too," I said in agreement. "Anyway, that's as much as I could find on the Westphall woman. What's the next name on the list?"

"Marguerite Richardson," Elijah said. "But Marcel and your brother might have come up with a more effective method of tracking down the information than running down leads one at a time."

"Oh?" I said curiously. "Do tell."

"I don't know the details myself yet, but they mentioned something about a record of all the supernatural beings in the city. Marcellus and Ezra are out interrogating the records keeper as we speak." A slight pause before he resumed speaking. "I stand corrected," he remarked, sounding faintly amused. "I just received a text; it seems they're done with the poor city worker and got quite a bit of useful information."

"Such as?" I asked, walking briskly down the sidewalk towards where I'd parked.

"Apparently," he replied, "those records have been moved to the sacristy at St. Anne's."

"Awesome," I said, yanking open my car door and sliding in. "I'll meet you guys there."

* * *

"So this is the great betrayal?" Klaus asked scathingly, thoroughly unimpressed with the journey through Rebekah's mind thus far. All Genevieve had shown him so far was Rebekah playing at being a nurse during an influenza epidemic and some clandestine meet-ups with Marcel. "Rebekah and Marcel have been sneaking around behind my back for the better half of two centuries. If it's shock value you're going for," he remarked cuttingly, "you're going to have to do better than show me something I'm already more than familiar with."

Genevieve looked at him thoughtfully. "That's a very mild reaction. Certainly less anger than what I anticipated. From what I'd heard you've punished them harshly for their little affair in the past."

"Well, I had my reasons," Klaus said defensively.

"Oh, you don't have to convince me," she assured him. "As far as I'm concerned you only needed one reason: that it suited you."

Klaus just shook his head. "I don't know what you're playing at," he said tiredly, "but if the sum total of your plan to turn me against my sister was _this_ revelation, it will have been a wholly ineffective endeavor."

Genevieve tsked. "You poor thing," she said. "After a thousand years, dishonesty from your family has come to be expected." She shook her head sadly. "I wish that _was_ the sum total of their treachery. Unfortunately, it's not."

* * *

Ezra cornered Marcel just as they were about to enter St. Anne's; Elijah and Zoe, who had arrived a few minutes earlier, had already gone inside to look around.

"What is your problem?" the vampire demanded, looking annoyed.

"Brynne Deveraux," Ezra said flatly. "What do you know about her?"

Marcel stared at him blankly. "What?"

"You recognized the name," Ezra snapped. "You told us not to bother Sophie about it, but _you_ knew her, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I knew her, what of it?"

" _Marcel_ ," he growled. "This is not the time to withhold information."

Marcel put his hands up "Okay, okay, relax. No need to get all snarly. She used to do some spells for me now and then," he explained. "Girl had power," he added admiringly. "She cursed a whole pack of werewolves just because they were pissing me off."

Ezra growled at him again, just on principle, then shook his head and headed inside the church to where Elijah and Zoe were waiting.

"We were right!" Zoe called out as Ezra and Marcel entered to find a literal paper storm in the middle of the church; she and Elijah had apparently not wanted to waste time waiting for them.

"Right about what?" Ezra asked, going over to stand by his twin.

"Every name upon my flesh signifies a witch who died by her own hand," Elijah explained, holding the list of names in one hand and a stack of death certificates in the other.

"All but one," Zoe added, holding up another file. "Clara Summerlin."

Marcel scowled. "Who?" he asked blankly.

Zoe shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm not from around here." She turned to Elijah. "I don't suppose her name rings any bells?"

Elijah sighed and shook his head. "None."

Ezra made an aggravated sound. "Okay, well, if she didn't kill herself, how did she die? Does the file say?"

Zoe flipped open the folder and scanned the the first page. "Yeah, I think I saw something somewhere in here...ah, there it is." She squinted at the small print. "Looks like she died during the influenza epidemic of 1919."

Elijah opened his mouth to say something, then went very still as the tattoos across his skin vanished in a wave of magic. "Well," he said after a moment, "I suppose we have our answer. Though I have no idea what it means," he tacked on.

Zoe and Ezra sighed in unison. "Wonderful," they said sarcastically. "Now what?"

* * *

Klaus rubbed his forehead as old jazz music echoed within his mind, bleeding over from whatever Rebekah was seeing because of Genevieve. " _Now_ what are you showing me?" he asked the witch.

"Your sister's tryst with Marcel was only the beginning," Genevieve told him. "You see," she went on, "the burden of your condemnation was too great, and as a result your deepest fear came to pass: that their love for each other would overshadow their love for you and turn it into hate. Nik," she said severely when all he did was shake his head, "they conspired to rid themselves of you for good."

"What are you talking about?" Klaus demanded.

"Just watch," Genevieve said, pressing her hand against his forehead again and submerging him in his sister's memories.

He was briefly startled to see a past version of Genevieve in a bar with his sister, but the shock passed quickly; Genevieve _had_ said that she knew Rebekah, after all.

He watched the unfolding memory carefully, though, because there was an uncomfortable nagging feeling tugging at the back of his mind, like there was something here that he didn't want to know, but needed to see.

" _It's complicated,"_ Rebekah of 1919 was saying to Genevieve. _"Like all siblings, we've had our ups and downs. Family feuds. In fact,"_ she went on, _"I was thinking of reaching out to someone we haven't seen in a very long while. I was hoping that maybe you could help me contact them,"_ she said, flashing a bright smile at her friend. _"But it would have to be a surprise,"_ she added quickly. _"No one could know."_

" _Of course,"_ Genevieve replied easily. _"Do you want me to find your brother Kol?"_

" _Actually,"_ Rebekah said hesitantly, _"I'd like you to find Mikael... our father."_

The shock and fear from hearing his father's name was like a slap to the face, and Klaus rode the tidal wave of emotions up and out of the flashback spell so fast that it almost made him nauseous.

He didn't believe this. He would _not_ believe this.

This. Was. Not. Possible.

" _ **Enough of your lies!**_ " he roared at Genevieve, trying to tamp down on the anger and betrayal and pain that was swirling around within him, tangling up in his chest and tinging his vision red.

His sister _wouldn't_ do that, wouldn't summon Mikael when she knew how dangerous their father was, _knew_ what a threat he was.

When she knew how much Klaus feared and hated him.

She _wouldn't_...would she?

"Part of you must have known," Genevieve said softly. "Suspected, at least. Your father came to New Orleans in 1919 to kill you, did he not? And as the city burned," she added, "he nearly succeeded. Am I wrong?"

But still he couldn't believe it. It just wasn't _possible_. "My family and I have done some terrible things to each other over the years," he said shakily, "but Rebekah would not call my father! No matter _how_ angry she was."

"It's sweet of you to believe that," Genevieve said with a sad, knowing smile, "to believe in _her_ , but by the time we're done you'll know just how wrong you are."

Klaus just shook his head, not willing to believe it. His sister would never do such a thing to their family. To _him_.

But suddenly, looking at the expression of utter confidence on Genevieve's face, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. And that uncertainty absolutely terrified him.

 _Please_ , he thought desperately, _let this not be true_.

* * *

"Find anything about the Clara, the mystery witch?" I asked as I came up behind Hayley, who was working on a computer, running about ten different search engines at once.

"Not much," Hayley said unhappily, giving a slight wave in greeting as Ezra, Elijah, and Marcel traipsed into the room to join us. "She was a nurse at the Fleur De Lis Sanatorium, but other than that there's not much information on her."

Marcel stiffened, a look a shock and disbelief crossing his face.

I narrowed my gaze at him, suddenly suspicious. "What's with that face?" I asked in a low voice. "You know something?"

He shot me a dark look, but said nothing.

Elijah, of course, noticed our little exchange and looked up from where Hayley had pulled up a photo of Clara Summerlin and some other nurses. "Do you know something, Marcel?"

And still Marcel remained silent, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Marcel," Elijah said in a tight voice, "do I need to remind you that Niklaus and Rebekah are somewhere suffering horribly? If you know something, _talk._ "

A long moment of tense silence passed, all of us waiting on the former king of the Quarter to speak.

And finally, he did. "The Sanatorium," he said at last, his voice rough. "That's where you'll find them."

"Are you sure?" Hayley pressed.

"I'm sure," he replied.

"But how do you know?" I asked insistently, not willing to let it go so easily. He knew something more, I was sure of it. And I wasn't going to stop asking until I knew what.

"I just know," Marcel said evasively.

"Not good enough," I snapped, growling a bit in warning. " _How_ do you know?"

Marcel just glared at me, jaw clenched.

"I'd answer her," Elijah remarked, his tone mild. "She has a tendency to get violent when she doesn't get her way."

I shot him a look that was half affection and half exasperation. "Thanks for that, really."

He shrugged, his mouth curving up ever-so-slightly in a smile only I could see. "It's the truth, isn't it?" Then he returned his attention to Marcel and his demeanor sobered at once. "Tell us, Marcellus. How can you be so certain that they're being held in the sanatorium?"

Marcel swallowed hard, then spoke. "If I'm right" he said hesitantly, "you need to know exactly what we're walking into. We did something, Rebekah and I... " He swallowed again, looking away. "I think the witches are trying to use it against her. It was, uh... something that you're not gonna like," he added, casting an apprehensive look towards Elijah.

Elijah's face was utterly inscrutable. "Go on," he said.


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, one and all, to Chapter 73! Where we have betrayal, angst, and a whole lot of Zoe being awesome. :)  
> This chapter made me super emotional when I was writing it, and if I've done my job right you guys will feel all of that, too, while you're reading. Enjoy!

**Chapter 73**

" **Show no mercy to those who have shown no loyalty."**

* * *

"Are you ready to see more proof?" Genevieve asked, watching him carefully.

Klaus said nothing, just looked at her, waiting.

She pressed her hand to his forehead again, and after another swirl of darkness and light, he was once again back in his sister's memories of the past. This time, they seemed to be in an old cemetery.

Genevieve was performing a spell of some sort while Marcel and Rebekah of the past stood behind her. As Klaus watched, Genevieve of 1919 held up a newspaper article that had a grainy but still distinguishable photo of Marcel and Klaus at the Jazz Club. She cast a look over her shoulder at her two companions before crumpling the paper in her hand, then pulled out a familiar blade and used it to push the newspaper clipping into the flame of her candle.

Klaus couldn't help the small gasp of shock that escaped his lips as he caught a clear glimpse of the dagger the witch was holding. "No," he murmured. "That can't be..."

"What do you see?" Genevieve of the present asked him, her tone of voice letting him knew that she already knew the answer.

He answered anyway. "My father's blade," he said, his voice coming out choked and tight as his heart pounded in his chest. "It went missing when I was a boy," he recalled, then winced as he remembered what had come next. "He beat me half to death, so sure that I had stolen it." He swallowed hard. "Rebekah was so kind to me in the weeks after the beating...I should have known that she was the culprit," he noted bitterly. "She never could stand that weapons were things not meant for girls."

Shaking his head in an effort to banish the demons of the past hovering above him, he re-focused his attention on the replay of the past taking place before him.

Genevieve of 1919 was doing some sort of incantation now, her skin flushed as she worked her magic. _"_ _Pran ce mesaj sa a,"_ she chanted, _"les cendres sur le vent."_ She continued her spell until the paper in the candle flame caught fire and disintegrated.

And as she finished her chant, Klaus finally recognized the words and intonation. Recognized the spell itself.

It was a summoning.

For their _father._

Rebekah _had_ betrayed him.

His heart shattered into a hundred thousand razor-edged shards even as hot rage rushed through his blood and set fire to his soul.

"Rebekah!" he screamed, and there was a deadly promise of agony and pain in his shout, even as tears slipped down his cheeks.

* * *

Elijah moved so quickly that I had trouble tracking the motion. One second he was standing beside me, arms crossed as he listened to Marcel's explanation, and then suddenly he was across the room and pinning Marcel to the ground in a fierce stranglehold.

Since Marcel's revelation had me similarly enraged, I wasn't surprised by his reaction; I was only disappointed that he'd been quicker on the draw than me and my brother. It _had_ been close, though; Ezra's furious snarl had literally shaken the windows in their frames and only Elijah's vampire speed had given him an edge in reaching Marcel first.

But Hayley looked more than a little horrified at Elijah's sudden wrath. "Elijah!" she exclaimed, taking half a step forward like she wanted to yank him away from Marcel but didn't dare go any closer.

She was also blocked from interfering by Ezra, who stepped into her path and cut her off. "Don't," Ezra growled. "He deserves whatever happens."

Hayley looked at him in shock. "You can't mean that," she said shakily.

"I promise you," my brother said flatly, "I do." The fury in his voice was frightening in its potency, and if I'd had any doubts before about the depth of loyalty my brother felt towards Klaus, those doubts were now banished and laid to rest. We both loved Klaus as if he were our own brother, and this betrayal disturbed and enraged us just as much as it did Elijah.

Possibly more so for Ezra, I realized suddenly; for Elijah and Klaus, this was their sister's betrayal. But for Ezra, this was a horrific deed perpetrated by the woman he was in love with, done ostensibly because _she'd_ been so in love with Marcel that she couldn't bear to be apart from him.

I began to reassess my earlier confidence in Rebekah being a good match for my brother; if she couldn't be trusted not to betray her own flesh and blood, could I _really_ trust her to take care of my brother's still-mending heart?

Shaking my head, I returned my attention to the situation at hand. I could worry about the romantic repercussions of this revelation later, once we had the rest of our family home safe.

Or relatively safe, anyway; I had a feeling that Klaus would likely need some talking down if Genevieve had actually succeeded in showing Klaus the truth of Mikael's trip to New Orleans in 1919. I didn't know the full story, not by a long shot, but I did know that Klaus had hated his father... _and_ feared him. For Rebekah to summon the nightmare himself to the city Klaus had called home...I couldn't even begin to fathom how utterly wrecked Klaus would be once he found out the truth.

I just hoped we'd be able to stop him before he did something terrible to his sister.

Elijah, meanwhile, was still throttling Marcel, clearly not past the initial stage of wrath yet. "For the better part of a century," he was saying furiously, "I have wondered how Father found us, wondered what foolish mistake we had made to destroy our time in the one place that we could _finally_ call home. Did you know," he went on, "that I even blamed _myself_ for a time, Marcellus?"

"Elijah," Marcel began to say, but Elijah tightened his grip and Marcel broke off with a strangled gasping sound.

"Niklaus treated you like a son!" Elijah shouted. " How could you do this to him?"

"Because of Rebekah!" Marcel choked out, eyes shining. "Because I loved her. Because all we ever wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around...that was never going to happen."

Elijah glared at him coldly for another long moment, then finally released him. "When Klaus learns the truth," he said, "there will be no end to his rage."

"Then we'd better hurry," I said, "and pray that we don't get there too late."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Genevieve said sympathetically, looking at him as he rubbed his wrists from where she'd unlatched his restraints. "I know how much this hurts. To see what she did .To see who she really is. But you needed to know. You needed to _see_ it. And now that you have," she added, "you can take your revenge. _Our_ revenge. Please," she said, opening the thick metal door and standing aside. "Go ahead."

With rage pulsing hot within him, he bolted to his feet and snatched up Tunde's dagger, which Genevieve had set aside after pulling it from his body. He angled it at her briefly, weighing his options. In the end, though, he didn't kill her, just brushed past her and out the door.

Right now, his wrath had only one target, and his thirst for vengeance would not be sated until he bathed in her blood and basked in her screams of agony.

 _Rebekah,_ he thought darkly. _My sister._

_I'm coming for you._

* * *

Elijah, Ezra, and I raced through the cold halls of the sanatorium, desperate to find Klaus and Rebekah before something happened that couldn't be undone.

Marcel and Hayley had tried to come with us, but Elijah and I had strongly vetoed the idea; Hayley because of her pregnancy, and Marcel because his presence would likely only enrage Klaus further. Seriously, what possible good could come of putting both parties responsible for the betrayal in the same room with the vengeful betrayed? It was like _asking_ for a murder-fest.

So Marcel stayed behind at the Abattoir with Hayley.

We eventually reached a hallway intersection that branched off in three more directions, none of them with any clues to indicate what the right choice might be.

"Shit," I snapped, whirling around to peer down each hallway. "Now what do we do?"

"Split up," Elijah said at once. "If we're lucky, one of us will find Niklaus before he finds Rebekah."

"Since when are we _ever_ lucky?" I griped, but bolted off down the hallway farthest to the left, pulling on my wolfside to give me an extra boost of speed and stamina.

 _Please let us not be too late_ , I thought desperately. _Please._

After what felt like hours of running and searching but was probably only a few minutes, I found them, nearly tripping over my own feet in surprise because for all my desperation, I hadn't actually expected to find them in time.

As it was, I realized as I rounded the corner, I might still be too late.

Klaus was advancing on Rebekah, Papa Tunde's wicked magical dagger clutched in one hand as he stalked his sister like a cat cornering a mouse.

Just as he was about to thrust the blade forward and stab it into his sister's heart, I sprinted forward and tackled him from behind, not knocking him down but wrapping my arms around him instead, pinning his arms to his sides and trapping him in place.

"Klaus, don't!" I shouted, tightening my grip as I felt his muscles tense.

He snarled at me ferociously, trying to throw me off. "Zoe Storme, what do you think you're doing?! Don't interfere!"

"Klaus, you can't do this," I said frantically, not letting go. "She's your sister!"

"She betrayed me!" he snapped, and the agony and grief in his voice nearly tore my heart out.

But I still didn't let go, even as my eyes stung with tears that clouded my vision. "I know she did. What she did was horrible, Klaus, but you _can't_ hurt her."

"Why not?" he demanded, voice cracking. "After all the pain she has given me?"

"Because she's your sister," I said, letting loose whatever words were gathering on my tongue because I didn't know what else to say to him; there was nothing logical I could think of to say that would sway him, so I just babbled what was in my heart. "Because you love her, even when you hate her. Because _she_ loves _you_ , even when she hates you. Because you're _family_ , Klaus, and family looks after each other."

I choked on a sob and pressed my face into his back, hating that I was crying but not able to stop; it was like the raw intensity of the situation had brought my own buried feelings rushing to the surface. "I can't let you do this," I cried. "If you harm Rebekah, you'll just be hurting yourself even more, Klaus, can't you _see_ that? And I don't want you to hurt anymore...And," I continued, unable to stop the words that were coming now, spilling out from some deep painful corner of my heart, "I _need_ to know that not all families are like what's left of mine and Ezra's, Klaus." I swallowed hard and tightened my grip on him when I felt his muscles trembling; I didn't think he was going to try and pry me off again, but I wasn't taking any chances. "I need to know that there's something more than just anger and pain and fear and hate," I said desperately. "So Klaus, please, _please_ don't do this. _**Please.**_ "

A seemingly endless silence descended, and in that calm, careful quiet I sensed the presence of someone else. Not willing to let go of Klaus until I was sure he wouldn't attack Rebekah, I reached out with my wolf senses, and was somewhat mortified to realize that Elijah and Ezra had joined us at some point, positioning themselves between Klaus and Rebekah.

They had, I could tell from the sadness and regret I picked up from my link with my twin, heard my entire babbling speech of desperation.

I tried to muster up some sense of embarrassment over that, but by that point I was so emotionally wrecked and mentally wiped out that I couldn't seem to find the will or energy for it. I just did my best to send some reassurance back along the bond with my twin to let him know that, hysterics aside, I was fine.

"You can let go," Klaus told me at last, his voice low and rough. "You've made your point."

But I didn't release him, not yet. "You're not going to hurt Rebekah," I told him, trying to sound stern but probably missing my target by a mile because of my scratchy throat and sniffly nose. Still, I gave it a good solid effort. "You're not going to hurt her," I repeated insistently when he didn't answer.

A shudder ran through Klaus's body, so strong that it made me tremble from where I was latched onto him from behind. "No," he agreed a moment later, his voice soft and barely audible. "I'm not." He opened his hand and let Tunde's dagger fall and clatter to the floor. His other hand came up to touch one of mine where I was clutching at him, the front of his shirt bunched in my fist as I hugged him tightly from behind. "You can let go, Zoe."

"Can I?" I whispered, more tears slipping down my cheeks even though I could have sworn I'd already cried myself out for the day. "Can I, really?"

His hand tightened on mine, the warmth of his grip a promise. "You can."

So I did, and waited anxiously to see what he would do.

Was it a trick? Was he going to snatch up the dagger again and resume his attack on Rebekah? Had I been foolish to think I could change the outcome of this terrible tragedy?

Was there no hope to be found here?

But, to my immense relief, Klaus turned away from his sister entirely, as if pretending she didn't even exist. All things considered, it was probably the best reaction he could manage. His gaze wandered past me for a moment, to where Elijah and Ezra stood hovering in the doorway, shock and anxiety bleeding off of them in waves. Klaus gave them a slightly pained smile before looking back to me.

"Let's go home," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hooray, we changed more canon!
> 
> Seriously, though, I hope you guys don't mind what I did with the Klaus-Rebekah hate-match in the sanatorium? Because that was yet another part of the show that completely broke my heart. Poor Klaus. He got the short end of the stick all the way around in that episode, and I've always been ticked at the way Elijah handled it in the original canon of the show. Like, okay, Klaus was on a murderous rampage, but it was justified; Rebekah had done something very nasty, summoning Mikael like that. And Elijah's epic big brotherly response is to...stab and incapacitate the original victim? What?! And I thought you were the smart one, Elijah! -tsks-
> 
> Anyway, drop me a review and let me know what you thought of this latest chapter! Good, bad, so-so? Did you like seeing some more of the impact Zoe and Ezra are having on the Mikaelsons, and the story in general? I like to think that this chapter showed how far Klaus has come since the Stormes came on the scene, and how much Zoe's words affected him. In the original episode, there was no one really on Klaus's side for this part (except for Genevieve, who isn't really on his side), so I thought it was important to have someone who would be on his side but still be able to talk him down. And while Zoe's not really the best at meaningful talks, she spoke from the heart and I think that helped. Or maybe I'm just delusional. XD Either way, let me know how you felt about the chapter; I adore all feedback! :D
> 
> In other news, I'm just about finished writing the second short story in my Tales of Camellia series (the story is titled Following the Road Home), and I'm hoping to have it published as an e-book using Amazon KDP by the end of the month! :) So if any of you are interested in seeing some of my published work about werewolves, feel free to check the first story out in the meantime; I have a side blog dedicated to ToC if you wanted to check out an excerpt or two, or even just check out some nifty pictures; you can find it by looking up talesofcamellia on tumblr; the user pic is a wolf and everything so it's pretty straightforward. ;)
> 
> See you next week! :D


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! I hope you're all doing well. :) Thanks as always to everyone who's reading this story, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. You guys are the best! :D I'm sorry I haven't replied to all of your lovely reviews yet, but I got terribly sick last weekend and basically spent this entire week in recovery mode. XD
> 
> I'd also like to take a moment to give a hugely massive round of thanks with extra love to all you lovely people who bought my ebook! You guys made me so happy! You're so amazing and kind and thank you so much for giving some of my published work a chance! If anyone's interested in the next story in the series, I'm just about done writing it and should have it published really soon. I'll keep you posted. ;)
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is the immediate aftermath of all that shit that happened in the last chapter, namely Klaus flipping his shit and going after Rebekah, only for Zoe to stop him from going too far. This chapter is mostly a lot of introspection and feels and not as much action. It does contain something I've wanted to work in for a while, though: cuddle piles! Well, a cuddle pile, sort of. I can't say much of anything here because it would give it all away, but there will some be my research into wolf/dog/werewolf cuddle piles/puppy piles at the end of the chapter in my author's note if you're interested to maybe learn something new today. ;)

**Chapter 74**

" **Family isn't always blood. It's the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you no matter what."**

* * *

Elijah and Rebekah returned to the Abattoir separately from me, Ezra, and Klaus. Rebekah seemed to want to be with Ezra right then, but the look Ezra gave her was full of uncertainty, as if this latest development had made him unsure as to whether or not he really knew her at all. He was, I think, starting to have some doubts. And Elijah wasn't about to leave his sister alone after everything that had just happened, so he and Rebekah called a taxi while Ezra and I bundled Klaus into my rented Camaro, which was somehow still in good condition; it needed a good wash, but hadn't yet fallen victim to my inability to keep cars undamaged.

Klaus, on the other hand, was far from undamaged. He was uncharacteristically silent as he slid into the backseat, and after slanting me a troubled look my brother followed after him rather than sit up front with me, sliding in and sitting just close enough to Klaus so that their shoulders brushed. It was, I knew, a deliberate thing on my brother's part; Klaus may not have been actively embracing his werewolf heritage, but he wasn't denying it either, and there was a lot to be said for the comforting touch of a pack member when you weren't at your best.

And sure enough, even as I put the car into drive and pulled out of the sanatorium parking lot while surreptitiously watching them in the rear-view mirror, Klaus leaned into Ezra, closing his eyes like he was exhausted.

Which he probably was, I realized; he'd been both physically and emotionally tortured, and was likely not doing so great from a mental health standpoint. I wondered briefly if asking Camille to sit down and have a therapy session with him would be beneficial, or if it was asking too much of her. Not that it mattered much at the moment, anyway; Klaus would be too raw for any such sit-downs for a _long_ time yet.

So my brother and I would simply be there for him, and give him whatever consolation we could.

My brother and I had the exact same thing in mind as we arrived at the Abattoir and went about it in a synchronized manner that needed no verbal communication; I parked on the street and together the three of us went inside, with Klaus in the middle and my brother and I flanking him on either side. Instead of letting Klaus return to his own room to sulk and brood, though, we dragged him upstairs to my room.

Klaus, still not totally with it and probably more than a little in shock, didn't actually notice our change of course until we crossed the threshold into my own little territory. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously as Ezra shoved him towards the bed while I shucked out of my dagger belt.

"You need to rest," Ezra told him. "And if you go up to your own gloomy room alone, that's not going to happen; you'll just sit there and stew and brood until you work yourself up into a rage again."

"And I'm too tired for round two of that right now," I tacked on, tugging off my boots and tossing them in the general vicinity of my closet. "So you're staying with us for the night. It'll be good for you, you'll see."

"What," said Klaus in exasperation, looking thoroughly baffled, "are you two talking about?"

Ezra titled his head slightly the side as he looked at Klaus, then deftly swept a leg against Klaus's ankles, tripping him and sending him falling face-first onto the bed.

Klaus rolled over immediately and propped himself up on his elbows. "Storme," he growled warningly. "What are you doing?"

"Welcome to Pack Bonding 101," Ezra replied, kicking off his shoes and flopping down onto the end of the bed.

"Pack bonding," Klaus repeated dubiously, eyeing him in equal parts wariness and confusion.

"Werewolves," I explained as I crawled in on the other side of the bed, "are very tactile creatures. We're extremely touchy-feely, I suppose you could say."

"I've noticed," Klaus commented, tone neutral.

"In a healthy pack environment," I continued, "the wolves can and will cuddle up together when they rest, for safety and comfort."

"Werewolf cuddle piles," Ezra said, sounding extremely amused. "And before you say something nasty, it's really not as awkward as it sounds. I know you have some personal space issues," he went on more seriously, "so if you really have a problem with this then we don't need to try it; Zoe and I will understand. But we need some comfort too right now," he admitted. "And having you here as our Alpha...well, that would help a lot with that."

Klaus just looked back and forth between the two of us for a long moment. "I'm not your Alpha," he grumbled at last, but he did lie back down and fidget with the pillows until he was comfortable.

Ezra and I exchanged pleased looks before shifting our own positions so that _we_ were more comfortable; I scooted down and twisted around so that my head was resting lightly against Klaus's side while Ezra flipped around so that he could rest his head in my lap while still propping an arm against Klaus's leg. Ezra's legs dangled off the end of my bed more than a little bit and I had no pillow besides Klaus's ribs but somehow it just worked. And it felt _right_ , not awkward or forced at all. As if we somehow all fit together perfectly, even though we were a jumbled up mess.

And as I drifted off to sleep with my hand in Ezra's hair and Klaus's heartbeat strong and steady under my ear, I was enveloped in a powerful feeling of warmth and peace. Of _home_.

* * *

Elijah stayed with Rebekah for over an hour when they returned home to the Abattoir; a precaution, just in case Niklaus changed his mind about not hurting her.

So he sat with his sister and tried to focus on a Scrabble game that neither of them really cared about.

When nothing dramatic happened and Rebekah decided to try and get some rest, Elijah excused himself, though not before extracting a promise that she summon him for help if she needed it.

He then strode down the hall to check on Marcel, who had all but taken up residence in the guest room they had given to Sophie Deveraux; even with the hectic goings-on of the night, the former king of New Orleans had barely left the witch's bedside once the rest of them had all returned from the sanatorium. He'd tried briefly to speak to Rebekah, but she'd been too shaken up over what had happened with Klaus, so Elijah had stepped in and not-so-subtly suggested that the conversation could wait.

Marcel had given him an aggravated look, but had complied, going to Sophie's room and not coming out again.

Peering in through the slightly ajar doorway, Elijah could see Marcel at Sophie's bedside. He wasn't speaking to her or even really looking directly as her; his gaze was out of focus as he gazed at some middle distance only he could see, his hand clasped loosely around hers as she lay sleeping.

Despite the simplicity and innocence of the moment, it felt strangely intimate and private, and so Elijah retreated, gently closing the door the rest of the was and moving on down the hall.

He checked in next on Hayley and Camille, who had banded together to help watch over Kieran during his recovery. He found both girls dozing by the priest's bedside and, after checking to make sure all the windows were closed and latched to keep out the chilly night air, left them to their slumber.

His next stop,reluctantly and with no small amount of trepidation, was Klaus's room, to see if his forgiveness was sincere or if he was even now plotting his revenge upon Rebekah and Marcel.

He was surprised, and worried, to find his younger brother's room empty, with the bed still made up perfectly. From the look of things, Klaus hadn't stepped foot inside his room since being captured by Genevieve.

Elijah couldn't help the slight scowl that came upon his face. Is his brother wasn't here, then where was he?

Klaus hadn't gone to seek out Rebekah or Marcel; Elijah's rounds had been primarily to prevent exactly that. But Klaus hadn't gone to Camille either, which puzzled him; he'd thought that the bartender was his brother's confidante of sorts. After the events of the day, Klaus seeking her out to vent would have been Elijah's second guess after revenge.

But Camille was with Hayley and Kieran, and Klaus was still nowhere to be seen.

So where was he?

At a loss, Elijah left his brother's room and headed farther down the hall, pausing outside Ezra's room on a whim. Klaus and Zoe's brother had grown rather close in the recent weeks, perhaps Klaus had sought refuge there for some reason, rather than return to his own room?

But after knocking and getting no response, Elijah cracked open the door to peer inside and saw that Ezra's room was completely deserted as well. Even more puzzled than before, Elijah closed the door and crossed his arms thoughtfully.

 _Where would both of them go in the middle of the night?_ he wondered, then shook his head. _Of course._

 _They would go to Zoe._ Well, Ezra would at any rate, because Zoe had been upset earlier, and it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that Niklaus would tag along for whatever reason suited him. He supposed it wasn't _so_ surprising; just unexpected given the events of the day. He would have expected Niklaus to hole up in his room and brood rather than willingly spend time around anyone else. But still, he could understand wanting to spend time around Zoe; when she wasn't being prickly and contrary there was something about her that was deeply soothing.

When he strode to Zoe's door and looked inside her room, however, he was not at all prepared for what he found.

All three of them were curled up on the bed together, in a tangle of limbs that strangely reminded him a basket of kittens, all snuggled up and squished together in ways that defied logic yet still managed to tug at your heartstrings.

Klaus was sprawled out in the center of the bed, and his face while sleeping had what was probably the most peaceful expression Elijah had seen on him in the last two hundred years at least. Zoe was curled up against him, her head pillowed on his chest with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Ezra's face was half buried under his sister's long dark hair but the hand he had entwined with one of his sister's was clearly visible, as was the arm he had draped across Klaus's midriff; Klaus, for his part, had his other hand fisted loosely in the fabric of Ezra's sleeve, as if he needed to be sure his friend was there even in his sleep.

It was quite possibly the most adorable thing Elijah had ever seen in his entire life. Which might not have been saying much, since he hadn't seen a great many adorable things in a lifetime full of blood and violence, but the sentiment remained the same.

He marveled at the strange scene, wondering how on earth the Stormes had convinced his prickly and touch-averse brother to indulge in such a thing.

Maybe, he realized suddenly and sadly, it wasn't that his brother didn't like to be touched...just that he didn't trust anyone not to hurt him when they did so. Niklaus felt that he could trust the twins, and so he would let them close, closer than anyone else. With them, he could let down the walls of ice and thorns he had wrapped around himself.

Elijah found himself wondering how many times Niklaus had needed a comforting touch and been denied. He had a feeling that the answer was _too many times to count_ , and that troubled him deeply because he knew that part of that fault lay with him. As Niklaus's older brother, even only half-blooded, it was his responsibility to watch over his brother, to protect him and make sure that he was happy. He had, he knew, failed miserably on both counts ever since their human lives. But did he really know so little about his brother that he'd missed this simple need for companionship and closeness?

Looking at the three wolves tangled up on the bed, he knew that the answer was yes, and that he needed to find some way to make it up to his brother, even if the effort took him the next century or more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so how was the chapter? Good, bad, so-so? Did you like the cuddling? It was a little awkward, I guess, but it's the first wolfy cuddle pile of the story, so that's only natural. ;) Anyway, whatever your thoughts on the chapter, pretty please drop me a review and let me know. :)
> 
> Anyway, are you guys ready to see what I learned when I was researching wolf/dog cuddle piles? Because I think it's pretty nifty stuff, honestly. :D So, I was poking around online, as I tend to do, and I came across this page about the pack behaviors of dogs and wolves, and there was this whole section on sleeping behaviors. Here's one part of it that I really found interesting: "Pack animals tend to sleep together, but even in a big cuddle puddle, the best sleeping arrangements are left for the alphas. Other dogs only cuddle with the alpha(s) with permission, and any dog can be ostracized and forced to sleep alone. This pack habit is one reason your pet would prefer to sleep with you but should only be allowed to do so with your permission." So that's why Ezra and Zoe stop to double-check and make sure Klaus is actually okay with the idea before actually getting onto the bed, even though they'd already sort of pushed him into it; it's also why he gets the normal/most comfortable position on the bed, with Ezra and Zoe sort of arranging themselves around him; in the end it all sort of boils down to him being their Alpha and them wanting him to be as comfortable as possible, since they understand that usually he's not a terrible cuddly guy. XD
> 
> Okay, that's about all I've got for today, folks. See you next time! :)


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! I hope you're all doing well. :) I decided to do a bonus update (posting Chapters 75 & 76 at the same time) in celebration of getting my second short story published through Amazon KDP! It's called Following the Road Home, and it's the sequel to my last short story, Love & Trust. If you want to know a little more about it, I talk about it some more in the ending author's note, or you could just PM me; or check out either my main yuzukimist tumblr, or my talesofcamellia tumblr which is specifically for the series. :D
> 
> Now, about Inevitable: We have finally reached episode fifteen! Or, you know, the Inevitable equivalent; I think it's pretty obvious by this point that the storyline has truly drifted a fair bit away from the original canon of the show. As a result, I should probably say 'Welcome to Chapter 75, based very loosely on and inspired by episode fifteen'. But whatever. You guys know what I mean. XD
> 
> Seriously, though...I had a really hard time with this chapter because in the original episode almost the entire plot revolved around Klaus being ripshit pissed at Bekah and Elijah stabbing him with Tunde's mystical dagger of evil. Since Zoe and Ezra abducted Klaus for snuggling instead, I pretty much had to shuffle things around again and re-work the canon for my own nefarious purposes. Enjoy. ;D

**Chapter 75**

" **If I were a shovel salesman** **, my biggest customers would be murderers. Oh, and spurned lovers trying to bury the past.** **"**

* * *

"That is," I said evenly, "almost definitely the absolute _worst_ idea I have ever heard." I considered. "Or at least the absolute worst idea I've heard in the last month." I considered again. "Maybe the last week?"

Everyone else just rolled their eyes at me, but Hayley crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks in an angry pout. "How is grabbing Celeste a bad idea?" she demanded. "She's the linchpin of this witchy revenge plot, right? So let's just snatch her and make her tell us what they're planning.!"

"I somehow doubt that she'll be easy to capture," Elijah remarked, looking back and forth between me and Hayley as if wondering what had changed to have us debating this in a moderately civil manner as opposed to the openly antagonistic behavior we'd displayed in the past. "We would need to come up with a _very_ thorough plan if we were to attempt such a thing."

"Good thing we've got our own evil mastermind then," Ezra commented, clapping Klaus lightly on the shoulder.

Klaus just gave a faint smirk, not saying anything.

He hadn't said much since we'd gotten up this morning, and I couldn't deny that it worried me a little. I was pretty sure our wolfpile last night had done him some good, because he hadn't gone on a murderous rampage yet, and had actually glanced at Rebekah and Marcel from time to time during our latest strategy meeting without blowing a gasket and declaring his eternal wrath and enmity.

Even so, he was acting more...subdued. And it unsettled me. Rebekah, I could see, was even more uneasy with this seemingly docile Klaus; she was seated at close to Ezra as she could be without actually being physically on top of him, and the looks she kept darting around him to her half-brother were half-frightened and half-resigned, as if she expected him to lunge for her throat at any moment.

Marcel, on the other hand, looked thoroughly unhappy about _everything_. He was seated at the far end of the table, away from everyone else. He hadn't even wanted to join the discussion in the first place; he'd wanted to remain with Sophie, who was still unconscious and recovering from her niece's murder attempt. It was only Camille and Klaus who had managed to drag him downstairs at all, and it had taken both of them together to persuade him. And he had only stayed when Ezra had commented that if anyone knew of a way to re-direct the Harvest magic and use it to bring Davina back, it would be Celeste, who had hijacked it in the first place.

Hayley, meanwhile, wanted to interrogate Celeste about how she'd possessed Brynne Deveraux and cursed the Crescent Clan of werewolves; her plan, I think, was to have Celeste reverse the spell, but I was pretty sure the solution wouldn't be anywhere so simple.

As for the rest of us...I suppose we were _all_ there because of some grudge against Celeste. Which was a good thing, I guess, if we really were serious about kidnapping her and torturing her for information. Rebekah had no issue with Celeste directly, but we had suspicions that Celeste had encouraged Genevieve's little revenge scheme involving Klaus and the forced trip down memory lane. Elijah had loved Celeste once, but that time was long past; now, he was enraged, in that tranquil fury way of his, over what his former lover had done to his family. Klaus had a laundry list of reasons to hate Celeste and want her dead, starting with threatening every single member of his family and trying to kill not only him and those he cared for but also his unborn child.

Ezra's list of grievances was shorter but no less potent; Celeste was ultimately behind Tunde's abduction of Rebekah, because if Celeste hadn't revived the warlock he wouldn't have been around to threaten Rebekah and nearly kill her; even if Ezra wasn't sure what to make of the revelation about Rebekah summoning Mikael in an attempt to destroy Klaus, there was no denying that he still loved her and wanted her safe; toss in the fact that Celeste and her coven had allied with Sirena and the Shadow Coven and my brother and I had very strong motivations of our own for wanting to get our hands on Celeste and have a nice long...talk. Even _Camille_ was out for blood, over what Bastianna had done to Kieran, presumably on Celeste's orders.

As for me...my reasons were numerous and varied but ultimately added up to one thing and one thing only: I wanted my family safe. Ezra, Klaus, Rebekah...Elijah. They were important to me, unspeakably so. Camille, too, and even Marcel. I wanted them safe, and that wasn't going to be possible until we dealt with Celeste and her little group of fanatics.

Which would, I knew, eventually involve dealing with the Shadow Coven. And ultimately Reginald, too; I could hope and pray all I wanted, but I knew deep down that Ezra and I were going to have to face our uncle sooner or later.

But for now, I decided to focus on Celeste, because she was the evil we could most easily dispatch. Or at least kidnap.

"We'll need to separate her from the other witches," I said at last, breaking the tense silence that had descended upon us. "That's not going to be easy."

"Easier than before," Camille pointed out. "Bastiana's out of play thanks to Ezra, and you took care of Sirena's guy Bernard."

"But that still leaves Genevieve and Sirena," Elijah remarked. "And Celeste herself, in the body of Sabine."

"Not to mention Monique and the other fanatics," Ezra tacked on. "They're hardly going to let us just waltz up and kidnap one of their leaders."

"We could come at it from another angle," Marcel commented, "and just kill them all."

Hayley looked at him in equal parts alarm and disbelief. "You're not serious."

Marcel just shook his head. "Think about it," he said insistently, his expression one of grim determination. "Monique came back because Papa Tunde, the one who took her place in the Harvest resurrection, was killed. If the other three die, too, then Davina can come back. Which kills two bird with one stone; we eliminate all our enemies, and get back one of our own."

"But that brings us back to our original problem," I said with a sigh. "Bastianna's as good as dead already, so that's one. But Genevieve is clearly no pushover, and Celeste or Sabine of whatever the fuck she's calling herself now is our main target to begin with and our _entire problem_ is that we can't get to her to kill her."

"But we can't kill her!" Hayley objected stridently. "She's the only one who can lift the curse from my family!"

And so we argued, on and on in circles for what felt like forever. In the end, though, we managed to come up with a plan. It was a stupid, terrible, and desperate plan, but at least it was something.

It involved using me, Hayley, and Elijah as bait for Celeste, which Ezra and Klaus weren't terribly keen on, but two hours of debating had ended the argument in our favor. Well, if _in our favor_ could be applied to the three of us going out to get ourselves deliberately cornered by a psychotic witch and her equally psychotic followers.

I was, I had to admit, also not wildly fond of the part of the plan that involved splitting up. It completely violated what I largely considered to be Rule Number One for dicey situations: Never Split Up, Ever.

But we didn't really have a choice. While I went with Hayley and Elijah to try and lure out Celeste, Rebekah, Ezra, and Marcel were going to try and take out Genevieve; Klaus, going alone since he wanted Camille safe in the compound, was going to sneak in and finish off Bastianna at approximately the same time, if everything went according to plan.

I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that everything was not going to go according to plan, but I decided to keep my mouth shut about that, at least for the time-being. No need in kicking down our already low morale.

At ten fifty-two in the morning, we went our separate ways. I slid into the driver's seat of my Camaro (miraculously still in one piece, somehow) while Elijah rode shotgun and Hayley sat in the back. Our drive through the city to our planned ambush was mostly a quiet one, although it was lacking in the tension that the three of us had grown accustomed to whenever we were stuck alone together. Something had shifted, apparently, and the instinctive aggravation I'd always felt in the past when Elijah and Hayley were within twenty feet of each other had dissipated almost entirely.

I wondered at that. What had changed? Was it because Elijah and I had finally claimed each other, more or less? Was it because Hayley had lost interest in Elijah, now that her forgotten childhood fiance Jackson had come onto the scene? Or was it just because of the tense situation we were in, that made romantic jealousies fall to the wayside while we dealt with bigger issues?

I had no way to be sure, but my wolf side seemed to feel that it was because of the most recent developments between the three of us, which had evidently settled things into a comfortable arrangement. Hayley was my friend, and maybe my pack sister depending on whether or not she decided to stay with the Mikaelsons or rejoin her birth pack in the bayou, and Elijah...well, he was just _mine_. End of story. Both my wolf and human halves still felt incredibly possessive of him, but the kiss we'd shared and the little moments since seemed to mean that that possessiveness no longer seemed to trigger homicidal tendencies where Hayley was concerned. Definitely for the best, since I was supposed to be protecting her.

My thoughts buzzed around in my head as we drove through the city, eventually coming to a stop at the location called End of the World. I parked and Elijah led me and Hayley to roughly the same spot where he and Celeste had shared their first kiss.

I was not thrilled to be there, because it represented Elijah's entanglement with another woman. But I stifled my inner ax murderer and got to work on sniffing out the magics Celeste had laid on the place while Hayley and Elijah kept watch.

Because this was our plan. We were going to trigger the spells that Celeste had cast here, the magic that would alert her if Elijah returned to this place, and then we were going to knock her out and take her somewhere nice and secure for a friendly little interrogation.

Okay, well, maybe not so friendly. But whatever.

As I paced slowly around the area, I still couldn't help the niggle of worry at the back of my mind that came from having Hayley here. I understood that she wanted desperately to help her pack in the bayou, but she was still pregnant. And while logically I knew that she was a werewolf and not quite as vulnerable as a human pregnant woman, I was still not thrilled at her putting herself in danger with the frequency she did. It was reckless and careless, and it irritated me.

 _Don't think about that right now_ , I chided myself. _Focus on finding Celeste's sensing spells. Worry about Hayley later._ It wasn't like I'd be able to send Hayley back to the compound, anyway; she'd steadfastly refused to be left behind when we confronted Celeste, and I knew arguing with her over it more would result in the same outcome: me with a migraine and her still there.

So I focused on the task at hand. Eventually, I located the strongest point in the magical grid Celeste had cast over the End of the World, and waved a hand at Elijah. "Come stand over here," I said to him, pointing to a patch of crab grass that had a dandelion growing in it. "Right here."

Elijah arched an eyebrow at me, but obeyed, and when his presence triggered the sensing spell, I felt the magic crackle through the air like electricity.

Then there was a bright flash that made me flinch and shut my eyes, along with a ringing sound that made my wolf half cringe in discomfort. Once the light and sound cleared, I was not terribly surprised to see Celeste standing across the field from us, her expression one of bitter amusement.

"So here you are," she said to Elijah, "with your little werewolf harem, on the very spot where you once professed your undying love for _me_." She took a few slow, careful steps in our direction. "I must say Elijah, your standards must have slipped considerably, for you to be interested in trash like _those_ two."

Hayley and I made identical noises of annoyance at her tone of voice, which indicated that we were ranked somewhere between a weasel and a cockroach on the scale of attractiveness, but we didn't say anything. It was up to Elijah to talk to Celeste, to keep her occupied, while Hayley and I tried to come up with a way to grab her and knock her out without getting ourselves maimed or murdered in the process.

"How much longer are you going to continue playing this pathetic game?" Elijah asked her. "You must realize that you can't win."

Celeste gave a low chuckle. "I don't care if I win," she replied with a smirk. "All that matters is that _you_ lose."

I saw what seemed to be an opening and took it, lunging forward with a lightning spell springing to life in my hands. But Celeste, it seemed, had anticipated my attack, and whirled around to meet me, a rebounding shield spell blasting out form her hands and sending me sailing through the air. I crashed to the ground in a painful jolt, my body protesting the harsh treatment.

"Zoe Storme," Celeste said, shaking her head. "I expected more from you." She gave me a sympathetic look. "With a lineage like yours, you could have been something fantastic."

I hauled myself to my feet with a grunt. "I'm already awesome, thanks." Then I grinned.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

I decided to borrow a line from an early episode of Supernatural. "That's going to hurt," I said in satisfaction.

Celeste's expression morphed into a confused scowl. "What are you..." Then her eyes widened and she spun around.

Only to be hit right in the face with a very solid shovel, wielded by none other than Hayley, who had slunk around behind Celeste when the witch had been distracted by my attack.

"Good job," I said appreciatively, coming over and peering down at Celeste, noticing with no small amount of glee that Hayley had broken the other witch's nose with her blow. Then something occurred to me. "Where'd the shovel come from?"

Hayley gave a crooked smile and hooked a thumb over her shoulder at a rusted out wheelbarrow of gardening tools that was half hidden behind some overgrown bushes. "I Spy with my little eye," she said with a wink.

I snorted. "Nice."

Then we all turned our attention to the unconscious witch at our feet.

"So," I said, "now what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, that probably seemed sudden and rather anti-climatic, but...that's how it goes sometimes. XD Mostly, I just wanted to keep the bit of canon where Hayley smacks Celeste/Sabine with a shovel because I actually really enjoyed that part. Hayley's best moment in the entire first season, if you ask me. ;)
> 
> In other news (as I mentioned previously), my second short story, Following the Road Home, has been published and is available for sale on amazon as an ebook! It's the sequel to my first short story, Love & Trust, so if you liked L&T you should definitely check it out. It's actually a full twenty pages longer than L&T was, so you're getting more bang for your buck this time around. ;) Anyway, if anyone feels like buying either story, I'd be super grateful and love you forever; I'm just getting started as a proper (self-)published author, so any support at all is wonderful! Even if you guys don't review it after you buy it (or even if you don't buy it at all!), just spreading the word around to other people would mean a lot to me. :)
> 
> Okay, I'm done blathering on for the day! The next chapter will be posted this Thursday/Friday as usual. See you guys then! :D


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back, everyone! I hope you're all doing well. Thanks as always to everyone who's reading this story, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. I'm glad everyone enjoyed the bonus update. ;) Extra heaps of thanks to those of you who are checking out my original (self-)published stories; you guys are the best! Thank you for supporting me in this self-publishing endeavor! It means a lot to me. :)
> 
> Anyway, on to this story! This time we pick up where we left off with the Inevitable version of the events in episode fifteen. Last time we had Zoe, Elijah, and Hayley capturing Celeste/Sabine. This time, we'll check out what's been going on with Ezra, Rebekah, and Marcel and their mission to kill Genevieve. :) The chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but includes Ezra doing magic, some nice EzBekah moments, and basically just a lot of focus on Ezra and how awesome he is because I'm terribly biased in his favor. XD Enjoy!

**Chapter 76**

" **Sometimes I wonder if love is worth fighting for** **, but then I remember your face and I'm ready for a war.** **"**

* * *

"Rebekah," Ezra said frantically, pulling her into his arms as she screamed and clutched at her head, blood streaming from her eyes. "Rebekah!"

"Stop it!" Marcel snarled at Genevieve, lunging forward to attack her and break the spell she was casting on Rebekah.

Genevieve just flicked her hand and then suddenly Marcel's jacket was on fire, bringing his attack to a sudden cursing halt. "Come after me and I'll kill you," the witch said seriously, her face pale and her eyes dark.

Rebekah just groaned, her hands shaking as she clung to Ezra. "Bitch," she moaned.

"You're one to talk, traitor," Genevieve snapped. "I did everything you ever asked of me and you stabbed me in the back! Some friend you turned out to be!" She directed her gaze towards Ezra. "I know you think you love her," she told him scornfully, "but my advice to you would be to get out now. She'll destroy you."

Ezra swallowed hard as Genevieve unknowingly echoed his own internal fears.

It had recently become one of his foremost worries, after losing control of his wolfhalf. His love for Rebekah was strong, but some part of him was terrified that she would destroy him. He was already damaged from Sirena...if Rebekah betrayed or harmed him, it would likely shatter him beyond repair.

But looking down at Rebekah, at her pleading expression as she held onto him, at the blood and tears streaming down her face as she wept in agony, at her lips as she whispered his name...as he looked down at the woman in his arms, he realized that there really was no choice here. There would be no walking away, not even to save himself.

He loved her, with all his heart and soul, and even if he could never really be with her until he got over the damage Sirena had done, his devotion to her was not going to change. Ever. He also trusted, deep in his heart, the knowledge that Rebekah would never hurt him, not deliberately. The bond they shared told him as much, and he trusted that connection.

"Go fuck yourself," he said to Genevieve, letting all of his contempt for her ring out true in his voice.

She stepped back in shock as if he'd slapped her. "Fine, then," she said, sounding insulted. "When you're left behind bleeding because you trusted her, just remember that I tried to warn you." She turned to go, waving at the witches accompanying her to come forward and finish off Ezra, Rebekah, and Marcel.

Marcel hissed at the witches, baring his fangs even as he continued to frenetically paw at his smoldering jacket.

"Marcel," Ezra said in a low voice as the newcomers raised their arms and began chanting in unison, "get over here."

Marcel cast him an angry and disbelieving look, gesturing to where their enemy was making her getaway. "But Genevieve is-"

"Forget Genevieve," Ezra barked, hearing the words of the witches' spell and not liking it at all. "If you want to live, get your ass over here right now!"

Marcel cursed but obeyed, zooming over with vampire speed, and taking Rebekah in his arms with no small amount of surprise as Ezra handed her over and stood up to face the five witches that were casting a massive attack spell against them. "Ezra, what are you-"

"They're calling up black lightning spears to incinerate us," Ezra informed him curtly. "There's no way to abort that spell once it's been started and there's no way to dodge it, so I need to raise a combat shield so that we don't die in utter agony, so can you maybe just shut up for a minute?!"

Marcel, wisely, closed his mouth and remained silent, redirecting his attention to Rebekah, who was still groaning and cradling her head in her hands.

 _Please let this work_ , Ezra thought, hastily running through spells in his mind before picking one he'd seen online in a hidden forum but never used.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of white chalk that he'd filched from his sister's stock of magic supplies. He quickly darted around and sketched an elven star on the ground, making sure that Marcel and Bekah were in the center of the septagram. The five enemy witches just smirked at his actions and shook their heads, clearly dismissing his actions as some ridiculous tactic of hopeless desperation.

He looked forward to the looks of surprise on their faces once they saw the end result.

The only problem, he mused, as he hopped into the center of the elven star himself, kneeling back down beside Marcel and Rebekah, was that this tactic required really good timing. Like, split-second don't-you-dare-blink-you-moron good timing.

So he took a deep breath, focused his magic, and waited, ignoring the slightly alarmed look that Marcel was shooting his way, the vampire clearly not thrilled with their only line of defense being a chalk drawing on the ground.

Rebekah, though...she didn't looked worried. Strained and exhausted from whatever migraine or brain-melting spell Genevieve had used on her, but her expression as she gazed at Ezra was serene and confident, as if she had no doubt in her mind that he could keep them safe. Keep her safe.

"I think I'm in love with you," he blurted out, internally cursing his own terrible timing and hoping that his casting of the defense spell was timed considerably better. _Honestly_ , he berated himself, _now? You confess to her_ _ **now**_ _? Idiot._ "Figured you should know," he added lamely, giving her an embarrassed smile.

To his surprise, she laughed, eyes shining. "Oh, Ezra," was all she said, but it was enough. He could feel her happiness tingling along the bond, along with a tenuous hope that maybe this time things would work out for them. That this time they'd finally found the perfect match, in each other.

Marcel, meanwhile, looked like he'd bitten into a very sour lemon, and the look he slanted at Ezra was noticeably less friendly than a moment before. Ezra didn't quite understand what the vampire's problem was, since his previous relationship with Rebekah had brought him absolutely nothing other than trouble and anxiety. Now wasn't the time to worry over it, though, so Ezra refocused on the witches.

Just in time for them to release the attack spell they'd been building up. Five black spears of crackling electricity arced through the air straight at them, and Ezra quickly threw up his hands, channeling his power into the septagram on the floor.

" _Enemies may rise, enemies may fall,"_ he chanted, _"Great Goddess above, raise me a wall!"_

Energy flared up from the chalk lines he'd drawn, a shimmering wall of power springing up alone the lines of the elven star, blocking the attack and shielding them from harm.

He wasn't going to stop there, though. The initial attack might have been thwarted, but he didn't trust these five witches to not try and do something even worse for their next attempt. The only thing he could do was make so that they couldn't try anything else.

He quickly pulled his energy back from the shielding spell and focused it on his next spell: a binding, for the enemies across the room. He narrowed his gaze on the five of them, huddled close together, expressions defiant even as they shook from the backlash of their failed attack. He took a deep breath, centered himself, and began his next chant, all his attention focused on those five girls.

" _In Hecate's name I bind you to the flame,"_ he intoned. _"May she bring nightmares, depression, and pain. I cast you to the wind, that all know your shame. May Hecate envelope you in the threefold law,"_ he went on, citing the tenant that said that whatever energy a practitioner put out into the world, whether it be positive or negative, was returned to them threefold. _"May all forget your shame, your harm, your call. May your ability to raise magic fall on deaf walls,_ " he continued, pouring all his will into this part of the spell because it was the most important part, the one that would seal the quintet's magical abilities. " _May Hecate stop your harm in the future, present, and past. Only when your deeds are reversed will this binding be uncast. So may it be!"_

Power rushed through the room, crackling across Ezra's elven star and then whirling to envelop the five New Orleans witches, who cried out as their magic was stripped and bound. Once the spell was complete, they crumpled to the ground, unconscious from the trauma of their loss.

"We can still catch Genevieve if we hurry," Marcel said suddenly, bolting to his feet and heading for the door the aforementioned witch had exited through.

Ezra moved to grab him and stop him - "Wait, Marcel!"- but it was too late; the former king of the Quarter had already vanished through the door, intent on running down Genevieve. Ezra considered going after him, but a sudden wave of dizziness overtook him and for the next few minutes it was all he could do to not pass out.

Doing two such powerful spells in quick succession without ample time to prepare had, apparently, the negative side effect of knocking him on his ass.

Rebekah, meanwhile, had recovered from whatever Genevieve had done to her, and remained with him as he tried to remember how to breath in a way that wasn't hyperventilation. He couldn't hear what she was saying to him over the ringing in his ears, but her voice alone was a soothing balm to him, the tone and cadence of her words a calming elixir that helped him pull himself out of his post-magic exhaustion.

He took a few more deep breaths and then let Rebekah help him stagger to his feet. "We should probably go after Marcel," he said after a moment, his head still swimming but his mind still clear enough to know that Marcel haring off after a homicidal revenge-obsessed witch by himself was really not a great idea.

"I'll call Thierry," Rebekah said, pulling out her phone and dialing. "He can catch up to Marcel and bring him back before he does something monumentally stupid."

"Sounds good," Ezra said tiredly, rubbing a hand across his face. He wondered what Zoe and the others were getting up to on their parts of their mission. He hoped that they were having more luck than he, Rebekah, and Marcel were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The protection spell Ezra does in this chapter is very loosely based on one I found online on a for-fun spell site; the wording in that one wasn't quite what I wanted, so I changed things a bit and threw in the elven star stuff for good measure. ;) And the binding spell that he casts on the five enemy witches is similar; I found something nifty online and tweaked it slightly to fit the needs of the story. I'm still not keen on bits of the word flow, to be honest, but I'm a nitpicker like that and I'm sure it's actually perfectly fine for what it is. XD
> 
> Anyway, pretty please drop me a review on this chapter if you've got a second; as you all know, I adore any and all feedback I receive! (I'm currently experiencing some internet issues, so I'm still behind on replying personally to all your lovely reviews; I cannot express how much this upsets me, because I love thanking everyone personally and getting into those wonderful chats that always follow, but I'm hoping to get everything resolved in a couple days, so please just bear with me until then. XD)
> 
> In other news, I've added Love & Trust and Following the Road Home to the Goodreads website; if you're one of the fabulous people who bought either story (and have I mentioned how much I love you guys for that?), stop on by and rate it if you've got a second or two to spare (or just rate it on amazon, I guess; I forget that that's still a thing. XD). For those of you who don't know what Goodreads is, it's basically this huge website dedicated to books and reading and reviews and it's just a really nice community dedicated to books. I use it a lot to find books in the genres I like, because it has a really effective sorting system and you can check out tons of reviews on any given book. XD
> 
> And...that's my spiel for the day, folks. Thanking for tuning in! I should have Chapter 77 posted by tomorrow night. :)


	77. Chapter 77

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so...I am a terrible person, because I totally neglected to update Inevitable on the same posting schedule for my updates on ffnet; I'm sorry! The only excuse I have is that I had a couple six-day work weeks in a row (my department at work is kinda short-staffed right now, so things're a bit...stressful? busy? insane? something like that. XD) and somehow it slipped my mind to update here as well as on ffnet. Please forgive me. <3 On the plus side, this means you get, like, three or four chapters posted all in a row, up until 79 which I'll be posting on both sites at the same time, either later tonight or tomorrow morning. So yay for that at least? XD
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter, we have two viewpoints, Zoe and Klaus. It's a shorter chapter compared to some of the others, but contains some important developments. ;)

**Chapter 77**

" **Let go. Why do you cling to pain? There is nothing you can do about the wrongs of yesterday. It is not yours to judge. Why hold on to the very thing which keeps you from hope and love?"**

* * *

My first instinct was to kill Celeste the second we had her at our mercy. It was probably wrong and bloodthirsty of me, but that's where I was at, looking down at the unconscious witch whose wrists and ankles we'd bound with duct tape.

I felt poorly for Sabine, whose body she'd effectively hijacked, but looking at the witch all I could see was Celeste, who'd been actively trying to ruin all our lives for who knew how long.

So, yeah, my vote was to kill her. But Hayley objected to that plan, vehemently.

"I need her to break the curse on my family!" she said, hands clenched into fists.

"There must be some other way," I argued. "I'm sure we could work something out ourselves, Hayley, we don't need her! And more importantly," I added, "we can't _trust_ her."

"We don't have a choice," Hayley snapped. "She's the only one who can lift the curse."

"Not necessarily," Elijah remarked, crossing his arms and looking at Celeste with pursed lips and a contemplative expression. "Celeste said only she could lift the curse on your clan, true, but she most likely thinks that Monique succeeded in assassinating her aunt."

"Her aunt?" I echoed in confusion, then snapped my fingers. "Sophie!" I exclaimed. "Celeste was inhabiting a Deveraux witch when she cast the curse, meaning that Sophie _was_ right before, when she said only a witch in her bloodline could lift it."

Elijah nodded. "Exactly. Celeste undoubtedly could lift it, since she's the one who cast it to begin with, but Sophie Deveraux should be able to do so as well."

" _Should_ being the operative word there," Hayley said in frustration. "She still hasn't woken up, and we don't know when she will. And if she does wake up," she continued, "who knows if she'll even want to help us?"

"She'll certainly be more likely to help us than Celeste," I pointed out. "The only reason she sided with the others to begin with was to get Monique back. And, well, she got her back but it didn't exactly turn out like she wanted, did it? Monique tried to kill her. I think when Sophie wakes up she'll probably be more than happy to do something to get back at Celeste and the others."

"I agree," Elijah said. "I doubt we can convince her to oppose her niece directly, but lifting the curse on your family shouldn't be a problem for her, Hayley. I got the impression that she didn't approve of the curse anyway."

"But how can we be sure?" Hayley pressed, desperation lacing her tone. "I need to save my family, guys, and if we kill Celeste and it turns out she was the only one who could have fixed things-"

"Hayley," I said, stepping forward to catch her by the shoulders and giving her a slight shake. "We're going to lift the curse, I promise. If I have to become BFFs with Sophie and spend the next ten years of my miserable life working on it, we're going to lift the curse. Okay? I swear. But we _have_ to deal with Celeste, and we need to do it now before she wakes up and finds a way to get the jump on us again. And think of Davina," I added gently. "Celeste took her place in the Harvest. She's the reason Davina died, the reason why she didn't come back like she was supposed to. Are you going to condemn that girl to an eternity in darkness when we can fix it? We can make things _right_ , Hayley."

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression torn between anxiety and hopefulness, until eventually she closed her eyes, swallowing hard as a tear slid down her cheek. "You promise you'll do everything you can to help break the curse on my clan?" she whispered at last.

"I swear by the Goddess," I told her solemnly, placing a hand over my heart to emphasize my sincerity. "I will do everything in my power to help your people break free from the Crescent Curse." I felt the sizzle of magic zing through the air, tingling across my skin and letting me know that my oath had been heard and witnessed by a power beyond what I could see with my eyes.

Hayley swiped at her tears and nodded, sniffling a bit before stepped back, away from Celeste. "Okay," she said, her voice rough. "Do it, then. Finish her. End this, once and for all."

I highly doubted that killing Celeste would completely end the mess we were in; Sirena and the other nasty New Orleans witches were still on the loose, after all, and my uncle would be paying a visit to the city soon. But still, removing Elijah's vengeful ex from the equation was definitely a good start.

"Do you want to do the honors?" I asked the vampire in question, pulling out a dagger and flipping it around to offer him the hilt.

Elijah hesitated for a moment, a split-second of indecision crossing his face as he looked first at the dagger then at the unconscious witch. "I suppose it's fitting that my hand be the one to end this," he said in a low voice. "Since it's technically my hand that started it."

"That isn't true," Hayley said, looking both surprised and annoyed by his remark. "You didn't start this," she told him seriously. "She did."

"None of this was your fault," I agreed. "Celeste's choices were her own."

Still he looked slightly uncertain. "But it was because of me that she..."

"Died?" I supplied, then shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But that doesn't make everything she's done since then your fault, Elijah. _She_ decided to come back and cause trouble. _She_ decided to possess all those innocent women and use them as tools to further her own plans. _She_ decided to murder and maim and curse her way into power. _She_ is the one responsible for all the pain and blood and death, Elijah, _not you_. You might have started her down that path, Elijah, but she walked it of her own volition. She could have turned back at any time, and she didn't. That's on her, not you."

He swallowed hard, then nodded, his expression morphing into something like a stern sort of resignation. "You're right," he said, his fingers brushing lightly against mine as he took the dagger from my grip. "She started this, and it's time I finished it."

* * *

Klaus had no problems getting to Bastianna. He suspected it might be a trap at first, it was so easy to slip into the building where she'd taken refuge in, but he did finally encounter a mediocre line of defense between himself and the witch, in the form of a trio of scrawny New Orleans witches whose names he didn't know and didn't care to learn. He dealt with them quickly and efficiently, snapping their necks before they could utter more than a few syllables of their attack spells. He made a mental note to tell Zoe and Ezra about the bodies later, so that they could do whatever they felt was appropriate in the form of last rites for the three young women; he wasn't entirely sure the trio deserved that much care (they had picked the wrong side, after all), but he was willing to let the twins take care of such matters if they were so inclined. He had much better things to focus his time on.

He found Bastianna huddled on a cot, her wrists chained to the frame, her eyes gleaming bright with madness as she rocked back and forth and alternated between furious-sounding bursts of gibberish interspersed with spates of high-pitched hysterical laughter.

It was, he realized, the effect from Ezra's rebounding spell, from when he'd bounced Bastianna's hex on Kieran right back at her. Seeing her so reduced and broken, he knew he should probably have felt some sort of sympathy or pity, but he felt only contempt and savage satisfaction at seeing the witch in such a way. This fate, this babbling insanity and viciousness, was what she had tried to cause for Kieran. What she _had_ caused to burst forth in Camille's brother Sean, destroying the boy and devastating his family in the process.

Camille still woke from nightmares about the night her brother had lost his mind and slaughtered his fellow seminary students under the influence of the hex; Klaus could live another hundred lifetimes and he still wouldn't forget the pain and agony in Cami's eyes every time she woke from those nightmares. The way she would spend hours shaking and trying to not fall apart, grief and anger tearing her apart form the inside. The way she would flip through childhood photo albums and give tear-soaked smiles as she lingered on pictures of happier days.

Bastianna had done that. Her evil had infected his Cami's life, ripped her twin brother from her in one of the most cruel ways imaginable.

He had absolutely no qualms about ripping Bastianna's head from her shoulders, and that's exactly what he did. He paused briefly afterward, to make sure he hadn't triggered any sort of retaliatory magic from his attack, but when nothing happened he tossed Bastianna's head down onto the ground and strode form the room, not bothering to pay attention to where he was leaving her body because there would be no final rites for this witch. He corpse could decay and rot and wither away into dust; she didn't deserve the respect or care final rites would imply. She'd never shown any care for anyone other than herself, and so she would get none in return. And if that kept her from moving on to whatever peace awaited in the afterlife...well, maybe that was karmic justice, too. A monster like Bastianna didn't deserve the peace of moving on.

With her death, though, preparations would need to be made for the return of the original Harvest girls, especially Davina. He quickly shot off a text to Camille, asking her to meet him at the Claire crypt where Marcel had lain Davina's body to rest, and then zoomed off and away, leaving no trace that he'd ever been there save for the bodies on the ground.

* * *

Celeste woke up right before Elijah stabbed her.

I tensed up, hand drifting to my remaining dagger, but there didn't seem to be any immediate cause for concern; she was still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and her eyes were bleary with confusion and pain.

Also, Hayley still had her trusty shovel and looked like she was eager to use it again.

After a moment, Celeste's gaze cleared from the haze of unconsciousness and she looked up at Elijah, several emotions flitting across her face almost too quickly to be seen. Longing, fury, despair, regret. "My love," she began to say, her tone pleading.

But Elijah, wisely, didn't listen. He wasted no time, clearly not interested in any thing she could have to say. She might have been imploring his forgiveness, or declaring her eternal enmity. It didn't matter. He swiftly dropped to one knee and plunged my dagger into her chest, his strike hitting true and stabbing straight through her heart.

She gasped as the blade sliced through her flesh, and she arced up and clung to Elijah, her nails digging into his arms so deeply that I could smell the coppery tang of his blood on the air. And then the only blood I could smell was hers, as it gushed from her wound,

She choked on her own blood for the span of a single heartbeat, her final heartbeat, a trail of crimson darkening her lips and tricking down her chin as she coughed and sputtered and clutched at my mate. Then her eyes dimmed and her head lolled to the side, her gaze wide and unseeing as the life finally left her stolen body.

I sent a quick and silent prayer up to the Goddess and whoever else might be listening for Sabine, the original Sabine, whose body had been hijacked by a vengeful ghost. _May you find peace_ , I thought, wishing there had been some way to eject Celeste from Sabine's body without the need for murder. But since Celeste had inhabited Sabine's body for so long, there was no way of knowing if there had been any of Sabine left at all anyway. I wasn't overly familiar with possession, but most sources seemed to feel that the longer someone was possessed, the more of the original personality and soul was erased or lost; only someone with an incredible amount of will and an indomitable soul would be able to survive long-term possession and come out intact. More than likely, Sabine herself had been long gone before we'd even arrived on the scene.

"Let's get back to the Abattoir," I said at last, once Elijah had set down Sabine's body and cleaned off my dagger. "Before someone spots us and calls the cops."

Elijah nodded, handing me back my dagger and heading for the car without saying a single word. Hayley and I exchanged a worried look, then followed after him.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, one and all, to Chapter 78! In which we have a nice moment between Ez and Bekah before we dive back into the plot stuff, namely Davina coming back to life (because we finally killed Celeste, thank goodness). Also a dash of Klamille in there, mostly just because. :P Sorry to those of you who have been wanting more Zoe, but there are a lot of other characters in the story besides her and spending more time on her without giving the others their turn in the narrative feels a bit like spoiling your firstborn child and forgetting that you have other kids. To me, at least. XD Don't worry, though; massive chunk of the next chapter, 79, is going ot be Zoe/Zolijah-centric. Also, I think it's finally time I admitted something to myself (and all of you): I've gone off the reservation in regards to the canon story-line and I don't think I can find a way back. XD Not that I really want to, mind you, I just figured I should state yet again for the record that, yeah, I think we've officially hit complete and total canon divergence. ;D

**Chapter 78**

" **Out of suffering have emerged the strongest of souls."**

* * *

Ezra was sipping carefully on a can of ginger ale and waiting for Rebekah to finish whatever it was she was doing upstairs when Thierry finally managed to drag Marcel back to the Abattoir.

"Oh, good," he said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms in a position that displayed complete and utter nonchalance. "You're still alive after all. I'm assuming you didn't catch up to Genevieve, then?"

Marcel bared his fangs. "No thanks to you," he snapped. "You could have come after her, too."

Ezra rolled his eyes. "While I can appreciate your need to tear her apart, I've had my fill of being thrashed by psycho witches, thanks."

"But you'd already dealt with her little attack crew," Marcel argued. "Together the three of us could have taken her!"

"Did you miss the part where she almost killed me?" Rebekah demanded, descending the staircase with a level of grace that had Ezra tracking her every move with an admiring eye. "Or did you figure that I was screaming my head off just for the fun of it?"

And now Marcel looked slightly guilty. "Come on, Bekah," he said sheepishly, "you know I don't mean it like that."

"Well, how do you mean it, then?" she demanded, coming over and jabbing him in the chest. "Because from where I'm standing, all you seem to care about is yourself and what _you_ want."

Marcel's face twisted into a scowl. "Are you kidding me right now? A lecture on being self-centered, _from a Mikaelson_?" He snorted. "Somebody tell the papers! It's a once in a lifetime opportunity! Be lectured on selfishness by one of the world's foremost experts!"

Now she actually shoved him away. "God, you're such an arse. Don't know what I ever saw in you." She huffed out an angry breath before seeming to ease up a little. "Your friend Sophie is awake, by the way," she told him, some of the venom draining out of her tone. "I stopped in to check on her on my way down and she asked for you."

Marcel was gone so fast it was a wonder he didn't leave a vapor trail, zooming away upstairs to check on his witch for himself.

"Well," Rebekah said after a moment of silence as they both stared at the empty space where the former king had been just seconds before, "that's a more intense response than I had anticipated, but I suppose it's just as well."

Ezra frowned at her. "Don't tell me you're jealous," he said, letting affection color his exasperated tone so that she'd know he wasn't actually upset.

Rebekah wrinkled her nose at him. "Not jealous exactly," she said, coming over to sit on the couch beside him, picking up the ginger ale he'd set down and taking a sip from it before passing it back to him. "More like...disappointed? No, that's not quite it, either..." She sighed. "I'm not sure if I can describe it exactly. It's just...he was my first love, right? Or at least...my first real one. The type of love where I thought he was the only one for me and we'd spend the rest of our lives together. And it was so exciting, to sneak around behind Nik's back...made us feel all clandestine, like our relationship was some great and beautiful forbidden love."

"Pretty sure Nik knew what was going on the entire time," Ezra remarked dryly, "and just went along with it about eighty-five percent of the time."

Rebekah lifted a hand and waved as if to brush his words aside. "Nevertheless," she continued, "there was always that element of risk to it, and I think that's at least partially what Marcel and I both found so exciting."

"And now, what? The excitement's worn off?"

Rebekah shook her head with a small sad smile. "The excitement wore off decades ago," she admitted ruefully. "I just wasn't ready to let go. Don't get me wrong," she added hastily, "I did love him, and I do still care for him a great deal, I just don't..." She shook his head. "It sounds so girlishly cliche, but he's not _the one_ for me, not anymore."

Ezra remained carefully silent, taking another sip of his soda rather than answering. His heart, meanwhile, was pounding so hard in his chest he didn't doubt that Rebekah could have heard it from five blocks away.

She looked at him for a long moment, then arched an expectant eyebrow. "This is the part where you're supposed to ask me who the one for me now is," she informed him, elbowing him playfully in the side.

He hid his smile behind another sip of ginger ale. "Oh, is it really now," he said, trying but not quite succeeding in keeping the laughter out of his voice.

"Yes," she said, eyes sparkling. "It is." She tilted her head slightly, an impish smile quirking up her lips. "But it's okay if you don't want to ask it," she said after a moment. "Just like how I don't need you to say that I'm the one for you, either."

Now he regarded her more intently. "No?"

"No," she said firmly. "I don't need you to say it. I already know it," she added, her cheeks flushing pink as she glanced away and then back again. "I see it in the way you look at me. In the way you'll come running to my side whenever I need you. The death glares you give Marcel," she tacked on with a laugh, "are also a pretty good hint."

He grinned a bit at that. "And here I thought I was keeping it subtle."

"You were," she admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. "It took me longer than it should have to realize how I felt about you. And then when I kissed you and you reacted the way you did..." She swallowed hard. "I was so scared that I'd already fucked it all up."

He startled a bit at the profanity tumbling from Rebekah's lips but then recovered. "That was in no way your fault," he told her immediately. "Seriously," he went on, seeing her doubtful look. "Rebekah, that was without a doubt the best kiss of my life, period. My reaction had absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with how I'm totally a mess inside my head when it comes to relationships."

"That's what Zoe said," Rebekah admitted, worry darkening her gaze. "She said that you'd need time, to work through everything that happened with Sirena. That you needed time to heal."

Ezra nodded, then reached out and twined his free hand with hers. "You help me heal," he told her honestly.

"I do?" she asked, surprise plain on her face.

"You do," he said firmly. "You make me _want_ to heal, Bekah. You have no idea how much of a difference that makes. Before you...all I wanted to do was die. Literally, I wished that I was mortal so that I could just wash my hands of this life and be done with it all. I never told Zoe that," he admitted, guilt bringing a sour taste to his mouth, "because I knew how much it would upset her. That all changed when I met you," he continued. "I didn't notice it in the beginning...Hell, I didn't even notice it until pretty recently, actually...But having you around...It makes me want to get up in the morning, Bekah. Knowing that you're around makes me actually look forward to getting up in the morning, even with all this other shit that's going on. I'm not saying I'm even remotely close to being a fraction of a normal person," he added hastily. "There's a really high chance that I'm still going to be a mess for a while yet, and I can't promise that being with me is going to be worth it to you in the long haul...I mean, I don't even understand what you see in me to begin with, but I swear to you-"

"Ezra," Rebekah said, interrupting his meandering rant with a laugh. "Shut up and kiss me."

He did, setting aside his soda and lifting his hand up to cradle her cheek in his palm as her lips brushed against his, her scent and taste filling his senses until it was all he knew. He could feel her heart beating in her chest, the pounding rhythm a match for his own, both of them so wrapped up in each other that it began to seem like there was nothing in the universe other than the two of them.

He kissed her, kissed her again, and then kissed her a third time when it became apparent that despite his decidedly jacked up heart-rate there wasn't going to be a panic attack or freak out this time. The fear and panic that had surged up and shredded him before was nowhere to be found, although he could feel the wisps of that terror lurking deep down, buried in the back of his mind. He pushed them even father back, though, burying them even deeper down in his soul because this was Rebekah and he loved her and he was going to kiss her and enjoy it, dammit.

Rebekah gave a startled but happy laugh when he kissed her a fourth time with such renewed enthusiasm that he sent them both tumbling from the couch to land on the floor.

"Maybe we should take this upstairs," she said breathlessly, giving him a brilliant smile as she propped herself up on one elbow and blew her tousled hair out of her face.

Ezra gave a crooked grin. "Maybe we should," he agreed.

* * *

Cami wasn't sure to expect when she arrived at the cemetery. To be completely honest, she wasn't entirely sure why Klaus wanted her to come in the first place. She didn't _mind_ going to a place of the dead in the company of an ancient bipolar vampire, she just didn't quite understand why Klaus had asked her to come instead of, for example, Ezra or Marcel or Elijah or Zoe...or any of a dozen others who would be much better back-up than a bartender with a psych degree.

But Klaus had asked her to come, and so she had. Because he wanted her to. And because even when he was at his absolute worst, foul-mouthed and out for blood (literally), she knew he'd never hurt her. She couldn't explain it in words, couldn't even wrap her mind around the idea logically, but in her heart and in the depths of her soul, she knew without a doubt that he would never ever hurt her. It was almost like there was a tie of some sort between them, tethering them together and making her faith in him absolute and unwavering.

She didn't know if Klaus felt it, too, that connection, but she hoped he did.

And whenever his eyes lit up at her presence, like they did now as she rounded a corner in the telemetry and approached the Claire family crypt where he was waiting for her, she could almost be certain that he did.

"You came," he said, the relief plain in his voice as he reached out to brush a wayward lock of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, his touch so gentle that she barely felt it.

"Of course I came," she replied with a smile, catching his hand in hers and squeezing gently. "I'll always come when you call."

His smile widened at that, turning his expression into something softer and more boyish, transforming him into a different Klaus, one that usually only she got to see. "My brave bartender," he said affectionately, and it seemed for a moment as if he would close the distance between the, and give her the kiss she'd been waiting weeks for, but a sudden ear-splitting shriek from within the tomb behind them had him jerking away and positioning himself in front of her, automatically shielding her with his own body in a display of protective instinct that warmed her heart.

His stance relaxed somewhat, though, once the scream died off and was replaced the the familiar voice of a bewildered and distraught teenager. "Davina," he said, a new sort of relief washing across his face. "They must have finally knocked off Celeste, then."

"God," Cami whispered past the lump in her throat. "She must be so scared." She clutched at Klaus's hand even more tightly. "Klaus, we need to help her."

He gave her a slightly strained smile. "Why do think I asked you to join me, love?" he asked, the lightness of his tone made somewhat ineffective on account of the worry lines bracketing his mouth and eyes. But at least he was trying to lighten things a bit, to ease the pressure he was putting on her with this sudden responsibility.

"I..I don't know if I can do anything," Cami said uncertainly, biting her lip. "I mean, I want to help her, but I don't know what I...Klaus, what do I _do_?"

"Just talk to her," he said softly, pulling her along with him as he went to open the crypt. "Be there for her, the way you're there for me when I need it. She needs someone to listen to her, to hear her problems."

"She just came back from the dead, Klaus" Cami choked out. "I don't know if one little girl talk is going to cut it."

"So talk for as long as it takes," Klaus said simply. "Just let her know that she isn't alone."

Cami swallowed hard. "Is that going to work?"

He gave a ghost of a smile. "It worked for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this chapter ended up being less plot than I'd intended and more EzBekah and Klamille. Which is good, I guess, because it's about damn time we finally got all our pairings actually paired up, right? XD Anyway, I hope you all liked this chapter; drop me a review if you've got a second, let me know what you thought. I can't promise an immediate response on my part, due to my work schedule and continuing internet issues, but you will hear from me eventually. ;)
> 
> Also, to anyone wondering why Ezra is suddenly okay with kissing/romance when before he was a completele and total mess...he's not okay, in general, not by a long shot. He's still going to be working through all that trauma and stuff, and Rebekah is going to need to be very careful so as to not trigger a bad response. But I wanted to have a nice moment between the two of them that didn't end with Ezra booking it for the city limits like before, and I feel like if he's in the right headspace and has a chance to prepare himself, he'll be okay with some kissing and stuff, y'know? He's still going to have some issues to work through long-term, but I like to think he's past the stage where a kiss (or more ;D) from Bekah is going to send him into a tailspin or something. Rebekah is, after all, his (soul)mate, and that's hopefully going to make things a little easier on him, since even with everything he's learned about her since he first started to fall for her, even the not so great bits, he still really truly trusts her not to hurt him. So, yeah, there's my reasoning. I apologize if that explanation was not terribly coherent; I'm writing this at the end of a long work week and my brain is doing loop-de-loops of sleep deprivation. XD
> 
> Also, in case anyone's interested, I'm getting pretty close to finishing the rough draft of the last few chapters of the story; currently, I think I can tentatively say that when all's said and done, Inevitable should clock in at about a hundred chapters. I'm currently just about done writing Chapter 94 (yes, I am way ahead of the posting schedule, I'm an overachiever/insane like that ;D), and I have a rough outline for the last few chapters. Once I'm done completely, I may or may not step up the posting schedule, depending on how quickly I can get my butt in gear for the sequel I have planned. XD
> 
> Anyway, should have Chapter 79 posted by later tonight or tomorrow morning; there's going to be some plot stuff in the beginning of the chapter, but the latter half is whole lot of steamy Zolijah make-out stuff, so if you've been waiting for some of that, definitely tune in! ;D
> 
> As always, if anyone has any extra comments or questions, feel free to PM me, or even message me on tumblr (I'm yuzukimist, for anyone who's newer and doesn't know). I love hearing from you guys, so feel free to message me anytime!


	79. Chapter 79

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter starts where we left off last time, with Klaus and Cami retrieving Davina after she comes back to life. And then we have a little bit of mood whiplash when we switch viewpoint back to Zoe and she gets to see what shenanigans Ezra and Rebekah have gotten up to while everyone was out or preoccupied. And then we get some hot moments between Zoe and Elijah. So, you know, warning for some intimate moments in this chapter, this chapter is mildly NSFW, et cetera. I'll be cutting things off at a certain point, since the ratings system is pretty strict over on ffnet and I don't want anything pulled; I was going to go an M-rated version here on ao3, but in the end I decided it wasn't fair to those of my readers who only use ffnet and wouldn't be able to come check out the full version, so...yeah. Everyone gets the shorter, less smutty version. XD
> 
> Okay, that's all I've got to say for now, guys. Enjoy the chapter! :)

**Chapter 79**

" **Let's meet in our dreams tonight."**

* * *

Camille took a deep breath before stepping into the crypt. She glanced over her shoulder at Klaus, proceeding all the way inside only after he gave her an encouraging nod.

"Davina?" she said uncertainly into the gloom. "Sweetie, are you in here?" It was, she knew, a stupid question. She and Klaus had heard the girl's scream outside, heard her frantic shouts and heart-wrenching sobs after she'd suddenly been returned to life from whatever was beyond.

But they hadn't heard anything else since they'd opened the crypt, and that was a little bit worrying.

So Cami called out again. "Davina? It's me, Cami. Can you let me know where you are, honey? I can't see in here."

A long, _long_ moment of silence, in which Cami could hear only her own breathing and the shuffle of her steps on the stone floor. But then, finally, Davina spoke.

"Over here," the girl mumbled, her voice weak and shaky and seeming to come from a far corner of the crypt.

Cami pulled out her phone and used the screen as an impromptu flashlist to help her navigate her way over to the distraught teenager. She couldn't see much in the dim lighting, but Davina seemed ot be dressed in a simple white gown that someone must have changed her into for her burial, although now it was smudged and stained with dust and dirt from the inside of the crypt.

Davina herself was curled up in the corner, hunched in on herself with her back pressed up against the wall and her arms wrapped so tightly around her knees that it was amazing she didn't crack her own bones from the intensity of her grip. She looked up at Cami's approach, and even in the faint light from her phone Cami could see the tears sliding down the girl's cheeks.

"Oh, sweetie..." Cami carefully lowered herself to the ground to sit beside the teenager, setting her phone down in front of them so that the screen bathed them in its soft pale glow. "Tell me what you need."

" I don't know," Davina said with a sob, and then she just cried more, sniffling and rubbing at her face wit her hands like she wanted to rub away not just her own tears but also everything that had happened to her. As if she wanted ot rub away her death, her anger, her fear, everything that had gone wrong.

"I...I know you're in a tough place right now," Cami said with hesitation, reaching out and resting a gentle hand on Davina's shoulder, "but if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Davina just looked at her, eyes dark and haunted. "I died," she said at last, and her tone was full of such despair and confusion that Cami felt those two words like a stab through the heart.

"I know," Cami replied softly. "We were all devastated." She hesitated again, then plowed onward. "How was it for you?" she asked carefully.

Davina swallowed hard, trembling. "I was alone at first," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And that was so scary, but it wasn't as bad as what came next." She shuddered. "I heard them," she went on. "Voices, whispering to me."

"Voices?" Cami repeated, frowning slightly in confusion.

"The ancestors," Davina explained, then shivered again. "They're so angry with me," she cried. "I used my power against my own, and they said they'd do horrible things to me if I misuse my magic again."

Cami felt a sudden surge of anger. Who the hell were these _ancestors_? What right did they have to terrorize and traumatize a teenage girl who'd been put through utter hell, all for the sake of a power struggle she wanted no part in? "We're not going to let them hurt you," she told the teenager, her voice strong with her conviction.

Davina eyed her doubtfully, as if she didn't believe her.

Camille reached out to wrap an arm around the girl's shoulders. "I promise," she firmly. "No one's going to hurt you again."

* * *

I let Elijah drive us home since I was tired and worn out, as if the events of the last few days were finally catching up with me. I dozed in the backseat, letting Hayley sit up front with Elijah since I no longer felt threatened by her presence near my mate.

Because he was mine; I was certain of it now, as both a wolf and a woman, and having that certainty was like having solid ground underneath my feet after spending months at sea. Disorienting at first, but comforting.

We arrived home to find that everything at the Abattoir was peaceful. Rebekah's convertible was parked on the street, meaning that she, Ezra, and Marcel had returned from their portion of the mission already. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, because things with Genevieve could have easily gone either way and sent them home as a result. Cami's car was also gone, which puzzled me; her assignment had more or less been to keep an eye on her uncle's recovery and hold down the fort while the rest of us went off to find trouble.

"I'm going to go find some of my family's old books," Elijah said as we crossed the threshold and greeted the vampires who were standing guard at the entrance. "Perhaps something in one of my mother's grimoires can give us some insight into a way to break the Crescent Curse."

Hayley flashed him a grateful look. "Thank you so much," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "Do you want some help, or...?"

Elijah shook his head. "I can manage on my own. You should get some rest," he added gently, looking pointedly as the soft swell of her stomach where she was just beginning to show. "It's been a long day."

Hayley swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "I'll be upstairs in my room."

Elijah and I both nodded and bid her good night. "You can do your reading in my room if you want," I said to him as Hayley left. "I have some journals and things that might come in handy, too. I'm going to go check up on Ezra first," I added, "but then I'll come join you."

Elijah smiled, his eyes warm. "I'll be waiting," he said, and then he disappeared off to collect whatever books he had in mind for our little research binge.

Humming a Pat Benatar song absentmindedly, I sniffed the air and tracked my brother's scent to a couch in a sitting room. He wasn't there, though, and judging from the abandoned can of soda and the slightly diminished quality of the scent, hadn't been for at least fifteen or twenty minutes. His scent was twined with Rebekah, and both scent trails went upstairs.

Curious, I tracked the trail, and it eventually led me to just down the hall from Rebekah bedroom. I approached the door to knock, but froze mid-step when I heard some noises that had my cheeks flushing bright red. And when several moans and an aroused "Oh, God" sounded out from behind the door in a tone I'd never heard Rebekah use before, I beat a hasty retreat, feeling like a cat who'd been scalded with hot water and tossed out into fast-moving traffic.

As I hustled back down the hall towards my own room, I tried to focus my thoughts on nice boring mundane things. The weather. What should I have for dinner. Did I want Pepsi or Coke with my meal. What time should I go to bed.

 _Ack. Bed_. That last thought, of course, inadvertently yanked my thoughts back to what I was trying to avoid: thoughts of my brother in bed with Rebekah. Not that I opposed their relationship, far from it, but there are some things a sister doesn't need to hear or witness.

There was also the fact that the pheromones and scent of attraction in the air had done something strange to my own libido. I tried to sternly remind myself that now was not the time to indulge in this sort of behavior, but then my more impulsive side pointed out that since we'd killed Celeste and things seemed to be going good for the moment, now might actually be the perfect time to corner Elijah and finish what we'd started in the backseat of my car.

Especially since Klaus and Cami were out and about for the moment, and therefore His Royal Majesty of Sibling Over-protectiveness wouldn't be around to flip his lid at any bedroom gymnastics.

My heart beating a little too fast in my chest, I returned to my room and found Elijah right where he said he'd be, sitting at my desk with a thick book in front of him. I glimpsed some old sort of old rune-type writing on the book's spine and realized that it must have been one of his mother's, from way back when they'd lived across the sea in the Old World.

"Hey," I said in greeting as I slipped inside and closed the door behind me. "How's the reading going?"

"Well enough," he answered, glancing up at me with a faint smile before he returned his attention to the book. "There's a lot here that I don't completely understand, so I may need some help," he admitted, his brow furrowing as he tapped on the paragraph he was reading. "You're a skilled practitioner, so your persecptive would be immensely helpful in that regard."

I smiled. "Okay," I said, going over to kiss him on the cheek. "Sounds like a good idea. For later."

"Mmm-hmm," was the only response I got, his attention riveted on the book.

Well, then. Drastic measures were clearly required here.

I rolled my eyes in amusement. "I'm going to go take a shower," I announced, tugging off my shirt and tossing it to the floor.

Elijah didn't look up from the grimoire he was poring over, so intent on tracking down information that he'd failed to notice the fact I was undressing right in front of him. "Alright," he said distractedly.

I bit my lip, because sometimes he was just so adorably clueless. I shook my head, shimmied out of my jeans and strode across the room, flipping his book closed.

He glanced up at me then, and his expression of confusion turned to something hotter as he saw my state of undress. "Zorana..."

"I am taking a shower," I informed him, moving so that I was straddling him in his chair with my arms wrapped loosely around his neck, "and you are going to join me."

He swallowed hard and seemed to be at an uncharacteristic loss for words for a long moment.

I could feel it through our bond, though: he wanted this, too. Just as badly as I did. I'd blindsided him a bit with it, he clearly hadn't anticipated our night taking a turn like this, but the unexpectedness of it didn't diminish the need.

"A shower," he said at last, his voice rough with arousal as his hands came up to my hips, "sounds like an excellent idea."

I gave a wicked smile, ducked my head down to steal a kiss, and then bounced to my feet, sashaying towards the bathroom with Elijah hurriedly standing up and following, discarding his clothes in a very haphazard who-the-hell-cares-about-the-wrinkles sort of way that made me laugh.

I wasted no time in turning the shower on, making sure the water was at a comfortable temperature for both us. Then I turned around to make sure Elijah had really followed me.

To my immense pleasure, he had, and was now wearing not a single stitch of clothing, which simultaneously sent my libido into overdrive and illustrated quite well how ready he was for this, too.

Before I could second-guess myself, I peeled myself out of my bra. I was about to slip out my panties, too, but something about the sight of my bare breasts drove Elijah crazy and the next thing I knew I was pressed up against the wall by the door, his mouth on mine and his hands already exploring.

"You," I panted in between kisses, "are too impatient."

"You," he countered as he bit on my lip just enough to make the sensation a pleasure-pain, "are a terrible tease."

I chuckled and gave a crooked smirk. "You ain't seen nothing yet," I said, hooking a leg around his thigh and pulling him up against me in a way that had us both moaning. I took a moment to savor of feel of myself plastered up again Elijah, the two of us so physically close it was almost like we were just one entity. Then he kissed me again, his hands fisting in my hair and my musings shattered and drifted away like dust on the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, yeah, this chapter turned out not at all like I'd originally planned? Like, in my head, this chapter was going to be Davina-centric, and then somehow it shifted in Sexy Fun Times? I blame Ezra and Rebekah, really, they started it. XD
> 
> Anyway, this is the point at which I cut it off in order to adhere to the ffnet T rating I've given to this story. I was originally going to post the full M-rated version on ao3, but decided against it; instead I'm going to leave the story with this fade-to-black version, and leave the rest to your imaginations. ;)
> 
> In other news, to those of you who were wondering about what I said before about doing an Inevitable sequel: Yep! That's going to be a thing that happens. Hopefully, at any rate. My current plan is to do two short in-between sequels (basically an EzBekah wedding and a Zolijah wedding), followed by a full-length sequel with an actual plot and stuff; that one will have Zoe and Ezra and everyone as main characters of course, but with the rest of the focus on Davina and Kol. And Kaleb, and before anyone goes "But Kaleb is Kol!", I have a plan, people, and it involves around that little snippet from ages ago, when Zoe was tracking down Celeste's host and one of them was a woman named Lydia Westphall, who left behind a son when she disappeared. Oh, and what's Kaleb's last name? Westphall? Ooh, coincidence? I think not. XD My point is, Kaleb is going to be an actual character in my story, not just some dude whose body Kol hijacked, and I can't give too much away right now because, hello, spoilers, but I can say that it will definitely be an interesting adventure for all parties involved. Particularly Davina, who's going to get mercilessly tossed into the middle of some love-triangle-becomes-polyamory shenanigans, because I'm a tricky author that way, but oh well. XD
> 
> Alright, that's all for now, my friends. Drop me a review on the chapter, pretty please! I'm seriously curious to hear what everyone thought of this chapter. Did you like it? Hate it? Did I do a terrible job of writing a hot scene? (If the answer is yes to that last one, I will not be surprised; I am incredibly lousy at writing steamy/smutty scenes. Really, I am the worst. XD). Anyway, see you next time!


	80. Chapter 80

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Welcome back! Happy 80th chapter! I hope you're all doing well! My work schedule has thankfully returned to normal, so I'm feeling a little bit better this week; I think I need like a day to just sleep or something, but how can I possibly do that today when I have so much fic writing to do? XD
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter we start off with the morning after for EzBekah and Zolijah, and then Klaus and Cami come back to the compound with Davina. What will Klaus's reaction be once he figures out what's happened? Read on to find out. ;)

**Chapter 80**

" **If it's meant to be, it will be."**

* * *

Ezra woke up feeling more relaxed than he'd been in years. He felt warm and comfortable and pleasantly exhausted. And when he shifted a bit under the covers, Rebekah snuggled closer to him, her head resting on his chest with her golden hair spilling all over the place.

Looking down at her peaceful resting expression, he couldn't stop his heart from tripping all over itself in love and joy. _Mine_ , the wolf in him said happily. _My mate._

 _Mine_ , the man in him agreed, while also acknowledging the fact that he was also a hundred and twenty percent hers, in every way. What had happened between them last night had only cemented that fact, etching it indelibly onto his soul.

Their little...consummation? It had pretty much set their bond in stone, finalizing the connection that had been growing between them all this time. The mating bond, he'd realized last night, and the fact that it had happened to him still blew him away. In all his life, he'd never imagined that he'd really find his other half, his perfect match. Especially after what had happened with Sirena.

But somehow, through some miracle, it _had_ happened. They'd found each other.

Rebekah stirred and opened her eyes, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. "Hello, handsome," she said, her voice just shy of a purr.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he replied, ducking his head down to kiss her.

"Mmm," she said in satisfaction once they broke apart for air, "you do know how to give a girl a nice wake-up call."

He grinned a bit at that, pleased. "Anytime for you, babe."

Her smile widened, eyes shining. Then her gaze dropped to his neck and she flushed. "Sorry about your neck," she said, looking embarrassed.

He reached up a hand to touch the distinctive fang marks she'd left in his throat. "Don't be," he told her sincerely, recalling the moment when she'd bitten him during their love-making with a rush of adrenaline. "It was great. I like that you marked me as yours," he added, noticing her doubtful look.

"You like that I nearly tore your throat out with my teeth during sex," she said skeptically.

He laughed at her dry tone. "Yes," he said, pulling her closer and nipping her gently on the chin as a sign of affection. "I loved it. Because not only was it ridiculously hot-" he nipped her again when she snorted at him in disbelief, "-it means something to me, as a werewolf. Mates," he explained at her inquisitive look, "mark each other like that, sometimes. Not so much anymore, but those who still follow the old ways will bite the throat of their mate during intercourse, between the neck and shoulder. It's sort of like...staking your claim, I guess? It shows that the one with the bite mark belongs to their partner. It's also a sign of trust," he added. "For a wolf to bare their throat to a bite means that you hold their absolute trust. That they have the utmost faith in you that you would never hurt them. It's a sign of love."

Rebekah's eyes now glittered with a sheen of happy tears. "Really?"

"Really," he affirmed, kissing her again. "Also," he repeated, "it's really hot."

She laughed and smacked him. "You're terrible," she said.

"I am," he agreed, nuzzling her neck and inhaling her scent. "But I'm yours."

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, all I wanted to do was stay in bed with Elijah. And I don't mean like _that_. No, as nice as _that_ had been, it was also just so unbelievably great to just sleep in bed with another person, to have that level of trust and comfort with someone.

Elijah with bed-hair was also something that brought a smile to my face; it made him look like cross between a punk rocker and a college freshman who'd passed out after a two day studying binge for finals.

So, yeah, I wanted to stay upstairs with my mate. But then my phone vibrated with a text from Cami, saying that after spending all night talking to and reassuring Davina she and Klaus were returning home.

At first, I was overjoyed, because Davina was _alive_. It was what we'd all been fighting for ever since that terrible say when our enemies had killed her and stolen the power means for her revival.

I vaulted out of bed, smiling a bit as Elijah cracked open an eye, arched an eyebrow, and then burrowed his head back under his pillow. I rushed for the door, then froze as I nearly left my room without getting dressed. Cheeks burning, I quickly yanked on a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants, and then resumed my dash out the door. I hastened down the stairs and nearly screamed in joy when Klaus and Cami came in the front entrance a few minutes later with Davina following uncertainly behind them.

"You're alive!" I exclaimed, launching myself forward to wrap her in a fierce hug.

Camille looked startled but pleased by my enthusiastic reaction, the intensity of which I had to admit took even me by surprise a bit. "You see?" she said to the teenage witch. "We've all really missed you."

Davina returned my embrace somewhat awkwardly, shuffling her feet and patting me on the back. "Hi, Zoe," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I..." She took a deep breath. "It's good to see you," she said at last.

I squeezed her even tighter for half a second, gratitude rushing through me, then released her and stepped back "I'm sorry I couldn't stop it," I said to her, and there was no need to elaborate what I meant by _it_.

Davina paled at the mention of her murder, but then shook her head. "You tried," she said.

That didn't make it any better, in my honest opinion. "And failed."

"You tried," she said again, more firmly this time. "That's what matters."

I pursed my lips unhappily, because it hadn't been enough to keep her safe and alive, but I didn't want to argue further and upset her so I let the issue drop for the time-being.

Then Klaus took a step closer to me and very deliberately sniffed the air around me, sampling my scent. Too late, I recalled what all I'd been up to the night night before. _Should've put on some perfume or something_ , I thought. It would have masked my current scent, which probably all but shouted _I had sex with your brother_. And Klaus, while still inexperienced with certain aspects of his werewolf heritage, was doing much better and had a pretty solid handle on picking up and identifying scents.

"Good morning," I said stiffly, leaning slightly away and fixing him in a wary look.

"Good morning," he echoed back, and then, to my immense surprise, gave a slow, sly smile. "Took you long enough," he remarked.

I flushed bright red from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet. "I beg your pardon?" I sputtered.

"You heard me," Klaus said with a smirk. "It's about bloody time the two of you stopped dancing around each other. Honestly, it was starting to get a bit aggravating to see. I was ready to lock the two of you in a room together in the hopes of speeding things along," he drawled teasingly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh my God," I said with a startled laugh, shoving at him. "You're horrible!" Then I sobered. "You're really not mad?" I asked him, biting my lip.

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Anyone with two eyes and half a brain could have spotted this coming from a mile away," he replied. "Being in possession of exceptionally good eyesight and a very keen intellect," he added with another little smirk, "I can't say that I'm surprised by it. Also," he went on more seriously, "you're different from the other women my brother had taken up with in the past. You're..." He tilted his head slightly as he searched for words. "Good for him," he said at last. "It's been a long time since I saw someone truly crack that stern facade of his, much less get him to loosen up the way you have. When he's with you, I see glimpses of the brother I remember from our lives before."

I smiled, and stepped forward to kiss him on the cheek. "That's the nicest compliment anyone's ever given me," I said, and meant it. I hadn't wanted to admit it, but I'd been secretly worried this entire time about what his reaction would be if he found out about my feelings for Elijah. He was always so protective and possessive of his siblings, I'd been unsure of whether he'd react badly or not.

But somehow, he was okay with it. It was mindbogglingly miraculous, like finding a unicorn with a wining lotto ticket taped to its horn.

Although there was still the matter of Ezra and Rebekah to attend to. I had a nasty feeling that Klaus would not handle that little tryst as well as he'd handled my night with Elijah.

I decided to bite the bullet in the hopes of sparing him a first-hand discovery. "While we're on the topic of consummating relationships," I said with no small amount of trepidation. "I feel obligated as your friend, sister, and pack-mate to suggest that maybe you oughtn't go upstairs right away?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

I gave an uneasy laugh. "Because I love my brother and don't want you to maim him?" I offered weakly, taking several steps to the side so that I blocked his access to the staircase.

An expression of confusion flitted across Klaus's face, but was replaced almost immediately with understanding, followed by a look of combined wrath and frustration, along with another emotion I couldn't name; it almost looked like relief, but was gone so fast that I was sure I'd imagined it.

Whatever he was feeling, I knew Klaus's reactions when it came to his sister's bed partners generally involved decapitation first and apologies never, so I put my hands out in front of me in supplication. "Please don't hurt him."

Klaus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists as his sides. Every muscle in his body looked tense and tight, like he was coiled and ready for battle. Then Camille stepped forward and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. Klaus opened his eyes and looked at her for a moment, a pained smile ghosting across his face before he turned back to look at me with an intense look on his face.

And then Klaus did something else that totally blew my mind. "Ezra Storme," he shouted, raising his voice so that it carried upstairs, his tone one of deadly warning, "you better have been a perfect gentleman during your copulation with my precious baby sister, or I'll be forced to do some very unpleasant things to you in retaliation!"

My heart pounded erratically in my chest as the echoes of his shout reverberated off the walls. Elijah, apparently awake from all the noise and wearing only a pair of faded jeans, zoomed downstairs from my room to wrap an arm around my waist and pin his younger brother in a look that said he wasn't sure what to expect but that he'd be there for me if I needed him.

Finally, the silence was broken as an answer came. "What the fuck kind of SAT vocab word is _copulation_?" my brother hollered back, worry, exasperation, and affection all coloring his tone. "Speak English, asshole."

Rebekah's wafted downstairs immediately after. "He was wonderfully sweet and considerate, Nik, thank you for you concern," she said to her brother, amusement clear in her voice. "We'll be down in just a moment, so if you could refrain from maiming anyone or throwing a murderous temper tantrum in the meantime, I'm sure we'd all be very grateful."

Somehow, between the two of them, that was apparently the right answer, because Klaus smirked, some of the rage leaking from his face. "I find it extremely ironic," he commented, "that while I was out behaving responsibly and nobly, my much more principled siblings were engaging in ill-timed debauchery."

"Hey," I said, vaguely offended. "It may have been ill-timed, but there was absolutely debauched about anything that happened last night." Then I realized what I debating about, blushed bright red again, and face-palmed. "I'm going to shut up now," I muttered, thoroughly mortified.

Elijah laughed, leaning over to kiss me lightly on the side of the head. "I'll go get you some coffee, shall I?"

I groaned. "That'd be great." Then I remembered that we had someone underage present and suddenly felt even worse than before. "I'm sorry," I said, turning back to face Davina. "This isn't the homecoming I had planned for you, and I-"

Davina cut me off with a slightly strained little giggle, like she found the entire situation funny but was having trouble remembering how to laugh. "It's fine," she said, giving a shaky smile. "This is...nice, actually. It feels...normal." Then her smile faded a bit. "Is Marcel around?"

"He's asleep upstairs," Rebekah answered her, coming downstairs with Ezra close on her heels. Her hair, normally brushed and tidy with not a strand out of place, was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was wearing only a bathrobe. Even with her disheveled appearance, though, she was still beautiful, made even more so by the happiness and contentment that was practically radiating off of her. "Sophie woke up while you were out," she explained. "They spent hours talking, and then passed out from exhaustion."

"And you know this how, exactly?" I asked, unable to help myself. "Thought you guys were...preoccupied?"

An adorable flush spread across Rebekah's cheeks, but she just shook her head, not answering.

I turned to look at my brother, arching an eyebrow expectantly.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, giving a slightly sheepish smile. "We didn't want to be overly obnoxious and ruin their reunion," he said after a moment, "so we waited until they were done talking to, ah, get started."

I snickered. "That must have been frustrating."

"Extremely," Ezra and Rebekah said in unison.

My snickers morphed into full-blown laughter, and I was still laughing when Elijah finally returned with a cup of coffee for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I ended up doing a more humorous take on it that I'd originally intended, the parts with Davina aside. Mostly I just didn't want to have Klaus and Ezra get into a huge fight? Because I think that Klaus has had enough character development at this point to not completely lose his shit over Rebekah and Ezra sleeping together. Also, it's not like he didn't know this was going to happen sooner or later; Ezra flat-out told him ages ago that he was falling in love with Rebekah, so he has to have seen it coming. Also, he does consider Ezra a good match for his sister, so that factors in, too. So...I suppose this basically marks the end of the Will They Or Won't They stage of this fic for the Zolijah and EzBekah pairings since they, y'know, did. XD
> 
> Anyway, pretty please review if you've got a second to spare. I adore all feedback; it helps me grow as a writer and also helps me figure out what works for you guys in the story and what doesn't. The next chapter will be posted in about a week or so, like usual; there's potential for a bonus update somewhere in there depending on how my work week and other writing endeavors go...we shall see. XD
> 
> Okay, see you next time!


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my friends! I hope you're all doing well! :) Thanks as always to everyone reading this, you guys are awesome. 
> 
> Anyway, I had some trouble with this chapter way back when I first wrote it, I think mostly because I was so focused on getting to part where Davina comes back to life that I didn't think much of what to do plot-wise once we'd accomplished that, other than my plans for Reginald Storme and what's left of the canon storyline. I worked it out, but it took me some time. So if this chapter seems a bit out of sorts, it's really just a reflection of my brain at the time of writing. Sorry. XD Also, the formatting might be off because my OpenOffice program and I were fussing at each other. So, sorry for that, too. XD

**Chapter 81**

" **Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness, and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns."**

* * *

I continued to chuckle to myself as I sipped on my coffee, but managed to refrain from teasing my brother further as we moved our little confab into a sitting room where we could talk more comfortably.

"I'll take you up to Marcel in a little while," Camille said to Davina. "For now, let me go get you something to eat, okay?"

Davina nodded. "Okay," she said softly.

I regarded her intently as we sat there, hiding my frown behind the rim of my _got sarcasm?_ coffee mug. This was not the Davina I remembered. Granted, we hadn't been that close before her death, but the Davina I remembered had been out-going and always ready to speak her mind. The Davina I remembered would have insisted on seeing Marcel right away, wouldn't have taken no for an answer.

 _Something isn't right here_ , I thought to myself, exchanging a worried look with my brother. Then I looked over at Klaus, and the expression on his face worried me even more. He was watching Davina carefully, and not in his usual I-need-to-keep-an-eye-on-you-because-you-might-be-a-threat way. No, this was something different. Very different. This was genuine concern and no small amount of anxiety, as if he was worried that Davina would fall apart or devolve into a screaming hysterical mess if she was left unattended too long.

What, exactly, had happened to her during her...absence, I wondered. Having no personal experience with death other than the soul-shredding agony of being one left behind in the world of the living when a loved one passed on, I had no idea what could have happened to Davina after Sirena had killed her. Had her spirit lingered, haunting the place where she'd been slain? Had she moved on to some sort of afterlife? I'd never really formed any definite opinions on Heaven or Hell or anything of the sort, partially due to the fact that I would never die, so it would never be relevant...and also because my parents had raised me and my brother on a very loose belief system, and all I could recall about dying and what happened after death was that reincarnation came into play at some point.

Davina, though, had clearly not been reincarnated; she was here, in her original body. Which left the question: what had happened to her soul during all that time we'd spent figuring out what to do? Where had she been, before we'd killed Celeste and the energy from the Harvest had finally brought Davina back? Part of me wanted to ask, but the tension radiating off of Klaus and the lost look on Davina's face had me holding my tongue instead.

So I just took another sip of my coffee and listened to Rebekah and Elijah fill the silence with aimless chatter about who would be responsible for the grocery shopping later today and whether or not we needed heavy duty laundry detergent. Eventually, Camille returned with a plate of food for Davina and uneasy quiet descended around us again as we all watched the teenager eat with a level of intensity that almost definitely made the girl uncomfortable, something she actually voiced mid-way through a bite of pancake.

"Guys, seriously," she said tiredly, sighing and setting her fork down. "I know you're worried and stuff, but I'm not about to fall apart and shatter or anything. Okay? I'm feeling...much better now," she finished lamely, attempting to smile but failing to manage more than a strained grimace.

Cami pursed her lips unhappily and looked like she was about to call Davina on her bullshit, but then Klaus touched her lightly on the arm and she subsided with a nod, looking frustrated but resigned, like she wanted something more from Davina but knew better than to push it right now. _What_ , I thought as I looked at them, _did you guys talk about all night long before coming back home?_

From what I'd gleaned from the text I'd gotten earlier, Klaus and Cami had found Davina easily enough after her resurrection, but something had kept them in the cemetery until morning. Had Davina been that inconsolable after her revival?

"Whatever you say, love," Klaus said to Davina, his voice shaking me from my musings. "Just finish up your meal and then we'll go roust Marcel from his sleep, eh? Imagine how pleased he'll be, waking up to find you alive and well again!"

I thought that while _alive_ was accurate, _well_ was a bit of a stretch, but once again decided not to comment. Coming back from the dead was a very good reason to be your off your game, so I figured Davina would have plenty of leeway from all of us for a _long_ time.

In any case, there wasn't much I could personally do, but I still couldn't bring myself to leave Davina. I couldn't tell if it was a she-wolf protective instinct thing or just me being overprotective all on my own because I saw something of myself in Davina or whatever, but I discovered that I suddenly had a really strong need to look after her. So I turned to Elijah, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and sent him back upstairs. "Why don't you go finish your reading," I said to him in a low voice. "We still need to investigate a way to break the curse on Jackson's pack."

He frowned at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod, glancing back at Davina before giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll come join you in a little while, I just...I need to stay with her."

He looked at me intently for a moment, then nodded. "As you wish," he said softly. He squeezed my hand gently, nodded to our assorted siblings and significant others, and then zoomed off and away back to my bedroom. Ezra and Rebekah followed suit not long after, and after a moment of whispered conversation with Camille, Klaus got up and went after them.

I was briefly concerned by that; Klaus had _seemed_ to take Ezra and Rebekah's little tryst well, hadn't even flipped his lid and threatened to maim or decapitate or anything...but I also knew that he could be silently seething and simmering about it. So I watched him go with narrowed eyes, only relaxing when he caught up to Ezra and Rebekah on the stairs and mussed Rebekah's hair in a move only an annoying brother would risk before wrapping a arm around Ezra's shoulders in a brotherly embrace.

With the others gone, that left only me and Camille with Davina. Hayley was, I assumed, still watching over Kieran; I made a mental note to check up on Kieran later and see how his recovery was coming along.

For now, though, my focus had to be on Davina. I owed her nothing less than my absolute attention and care. Glancing at Cami out of the corner of my eye, I could see that she felt the same, although I wasn't quite sure why; maybe just because it was Cami and she was fiercely compassionate in almost everything she did.

"It wasn't your fault," Davina said suddenly, looking up from her food to pin me in a gaze that was too somber and jaded for a teenager.

I swallowed hard. "Sorry to contradict you, sweetheart," I said, trying to keep my voice light and easy-going, "but it sort of was." I could still recall with perfect clarity the moment Sirena had killed her. Could remember in too-vivid detail the way Sirena had slashed her dagger across Davina's throat. Could remember the way Davina had looked so terrified, before the light had faded from her eyes even as her life's blood gushed from the fatal wound.

Could remember the way her body had fallen to the ground with a _whump_ sound, Sirena discarding the girl's corpse as disrespectfully as another would toss aside a piece of garbage.

"It's not your fault," Davina repeated, and this time her voice sounded stronger than it had since Klaus and Camille had brought her back to the Abattoir. "You tried to protect me."

"Davina," I said gently, appreciative of the absolution she was trying to give me but having none of it, "I _failed_ to protect you. And even worse than that," I continued, guilt rising up to gnaw at my insides, eating me up like acid, "I was trying to kill you, too. Remember?"

"Only because the magic in me was too strong," Davina argued, eyes too bright, though with anger or tears I couldn't tell. "Before I lost control, you were trying to keep me safe. Besides," she tacked on bitterly, "we all knew I was dead either way, right? You and the others were just trying to stop me from taking the rest of the city with me when I blew."

I shook my head and blew out a tired sigh. "Sweetie," I said to her, then shook my head again as I searched for words. I honestly didn't know what I should have been saying to her. I wanted to help her, be there for her, tell her that everything was going to be okay, but I had no idea what I needed to actually _say._ My overprotective sisterly instincts were going full-force, but I just didn't know what to do.

Camille, thankfully, was a psychologist with a keen mind and a huge heart, and she, somehow, knew exactly what to say to get Davina to open up to us.

"You said you wanted to talk more about what happened to you," she said to Davina, deftly changing topics. "But that you wouldn't talk to me unless Zoe was with me. Well," she went on carefully, completely ignoring my surprised look, "we're both here now. So...do you still feel like talking?"

Davina paled and looked down at her plate again. She poked at her remaining food with her fork, mushing her scrambled eggs together with the puddle of gravy and the remnants of her buttermilk biscuit. She stirred it all together into an indiscernible goop before looking back up at us. "I'm so scared," she said at last, her voice once again that barely-there whisper of pain and loss. "I misused my magic, misbehaved. I _disobeyed_ ," she said, her voice cracking, and then suddenly words were spilling out of her lips like some sort of dam had burst. "The voices, when I was there...the ancestors...they told me that I _deserved_ what happened. That I deserved to suffer for going against the coven. That I should have trusted, should have believed, instead of running away. They said that I ruined everything and I just...I don't...I don't even know what to believe anymore," she finished, a sob tearing its way from her throat and she hunched over and buried her face in her hands as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Camille looked stricken for a moment, then rallied. "Davina," she said, "I've studied the effects of trauma and abuse. The witches that forced you into that ritual, they lied to you. They hurt you. You had, and still have, every reason to distrust them. To _not_ believe in them."

"You don't what you're talking about," Davina snapped, hiccuping from her crying even as she looked up and glared at Cami with teary eyes. "Nothing you've learned in books is going to help me, Cami! Nothing you've studied is going to help!"

Cami flinched, looking hurt for a brief moment, before she shook her head and kept going. "Okay," she said calmly, "then forget what I know from books. Let me tell you what I know from _experience_. When my brother died," she continued, her lips thinning and her eyes darkening as her own grief surged up, "I thought I'd never be okay again. I cried for _weeks_. I blamed myself. I blamed him. I...blamed pretty much everyone. And then," she added, "I realized that all that...sadness and anger? It was swallowing me up. And I made a choice. I wasn't going to let it." She fixed her gaze on the teenager in front of her. "You can make that choice, Davina. You're strong enough, I promise."

Davina sniffled. "You say that like it's so simple," she replied shakily, "but the other witches aren't just going to let me go. They're not done with me."

"No one can control you unless you let them," Camille responded.

"And they're not getting through us," I tacked on. "Seriously," I said, seeing Davina's disbelieving look. "You think we all got so intense to kill Celeste just because she was an annoying skank? No. We did it for you, kid. To bring you back, because this was the only way we could manage it. Because you are important to us. You're ours, Davina," I told her firmly, and my inner wolf gave a satisfied growl of approval. "Ours to protect, to keep safe, to provide for. Marcel may have claimed you as family first," I continued, "but that family has expanded to include just about everyone in this building. Me. My brother. Klaus. Elijah. Rebekah. Hayley. Camille," I added, nodding to the woman beside me. "Not to mention all the vampires and werewolves who support us as well. There is not a single person here who wouldn't die or kill to protect you, Davina, I promise you that."

Davina looked awed by that for a moment, but then her expression darkened again. "Sophie wouldn't protect me," she said, tone angry and bitter and sad all at once. "She helped Sirena kill me."

"And I can never apologize enough for that," a hoarse voice said.

We all whipped our heads around so quickly it was a minor miracle we didn't crack our necks in unison. Descending the staircase slowly, with Marel at her side supporting her because it seemed like she couldn't walk on her own, was Sophie Deveraux herself. She still looked like warmed-over roadkill, with a gray cast to her skin and blood-tinged bandages wrapped around her throat where apparently she'd been injured and I hadn't noticed, but she was up and walking (sort of), and even talking (sort of) so it seemed like she was going to pull through after all. Still severely annoyed at her and itching to deliver a little payback for the betrayal she'd dealt us, I wasn't sure how I should feel about her recovery. On one hand, she seemed to have joined our side after her niece had attempted to kill her. On the other hand, that didn't absolve her of all the shit she'd pulled prior to that, and I was a champion grudge-holder.

I decided to save my retribution for a time when shouting at her and throwing things wouldn't make me feel like I'd kicked an injured puppy; Sophie just looked so damn helpless right now I couldn't bring myself to act on my fury.

Davina, on the other hand, apparently had no such qualms because the first thing she did when she saw Sophie was pick up her breakfast plate and hurl it across the room at the other woman. "Murderer!" she screamed, her voice full to bursting with wrath and pain. "I hate you!"

Marcel quickly pulled Sophie aside as the food and porcelain came flying at them; the plate crashed into an old painting of Paris in the springtime, the messy glop of eggs plus gravy splattering across the previously priceless piece of art. "D, baby, hang on a second-"

"How can you help her?" Davina demanded, betrayal thick in her voice. "She helped to _kill_ me, Marcel! Doesn't that mean anything to you?!" She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, her chest heaving with angry breaths. "I can't trust you either, can I?"

Marcel winced like she'd slapped him. "Of course you can trust me," he told her, looking wounded. "Davina, there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe, you know that. I know you're upset with me," he went on, talking right over Davina's next scream of rage, "and you have every right to be. I promised to keep you safe from the other witches and I failed. But I swear to you," he continued, his voice fervent and heartfelt, "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. And I promise that no one will _ever_ hurt you again, not while I'm around to stop them. Okay?"

Davina swallowed hard, opened her mouth as if she might start shouting at him again, and then finally just let out another heart-wrenching series of sobs, her grief and pain pouring out of her so intensely I came close to tears myself.

"I don't want to be afraid anymore," she cried, sinking to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Marcel rushed over to her side at once, scooping her into his arms and holding her close. "I know, D, I know." His embrace tightened as he looked at her as if staring at a miracle; I suppose, in a way, he was. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you again," he told her. "I promise."

And that promise coming from Marcel, it seemed, was what Davina had truly needed to hear, because all the tension drained out of her in that instant and she buried her face in his shoulder, seeking comfort from him just as girl waking up from a terrible nightmare goes running to her father for reassurance that the nightmares aren't real, that nothing can hurt her.

And Marcel gave her that reassurance, because it was not just what she needed to hear but also the absolute truth.

He would protect her with everything he had, as would we all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah, this chapter was definitely more serious than the last one. It's kind of a heart-wrencher, actually, or at least it was for me when writing and editing it. XD Anyway, pretty please drop me a review and let me know what you thought.
> 
> I should have the next chapter up in about a week, depending on my work schedule ..and the myriad of plot bunnies hopping around in my head for other stories. I mean, I'm trying to stay focused on Inevitable (I just finished writing Chapter 95 a couple days ago, actually, and wow, it's a doozy of a chapter), but I keep getting all these other great fic ideas. I'm hoping to stick to my usual method of handling them, write a few chapters of each story, maybe make a cover and some 'screenshots', and then set it aside for a later date. These ideas, though...they're insistent. XD
> 
> In any case, Inevitable and it's sequels are still at the top of my fanfiction priority list, but if a Now You See Me fic pops up, (or a Dominion fic, or a League fic, or an X-Men fic, or a Dark-Hunter fic...you get the idea), don't be surprised. XD I doubt I'll post any of those stories in the near future, just because I'm not confident that I can post (and keep up with) two ongoing fics at the same time (I certainly couldn't seem to stay on top of Inevitable and Elaria concurrently a year ago), but I've been known to display poor judgment in the past, so who knows. XD
> 
> Okay, I'm done ranting for now. See you guys next time! :)


	82. Chapter 82

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it really interesting that I've managed to retain parts of the canon storyline and yet at this point in the show all the character relationships were completely broken and dysfunctional. And I feel like something so simple as having everyone be on the same side shouldn't make it hard to stick to the canon of the show, but somehow it's like the most tricky thing ever?! So, yeah, I was still struggling a bit with this chapter, too, for some reason. XD Anyway, this ended up being Davina-centric, which I actually quite enjoyed because I really adore her as a character. :)

**Chapter 82**

" **Fall down seven times, stand up eight."**

* * *

The next few days passed by remarkably peacefully, all things considered. No one tried to attack or kidnap us, and no mysteriously murdered bodies popped up in the city, at least no more than was usual for that time of year.

Elijah and I were still trying to make some headway in breaking the curse on Hayley's werewolf pack out in the bayou, but were thus far running into more dead ends than leads. What I really needed was another witch to help me, but I was still avoiding Sophie as much as possible for the moment; my more logical human half was almost ready to forgive her, but my wolfside was considerably less forgiving and I figured it was probably best for all of us if I kept my distance until the urge to tear her heart from her chest had fully passed.

Davina was still severely depressed, and at one point Cami suggested sending her to an institution for proper care, but Marcel had vetoed the idea so vehemently that no one had dared suggest it again, insisting that we could look after her ourselves.

"It's just going to take time," he said, frustration clear in his voice as he tried to reassure the rest us about her progress, or lack thereof, over lunch one day. "We just need to be patient with her, that's all."

Ezra opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, got elbowed in the stomach by Rebekah, and then resumed eating his BLT with a slight sigh without voicing whatever it was he had on his mind.

Camille, meanwhile, was looking down at her salad like it held the answers to all the questions of the universe hiding in the ranch dressing; she was, I knew, trying to not push too hard with her suggestions for Davina's care. She was really fond the teenager and wanted what was best for her, but it had quickly became apparent over the last few days that what she thought was best for the girl did not always fit with what Marcel thought was best.

Since Marcel wanted to keep her at home and wrapped in a cocoon of protection away from the rest of the world, I wasn't terribly surprised by that. Marcel was determined to protect Davina from anything and everything, and Camille was clearly more inclined to get the girl back to some semblance of normality.

Klaus, I'd noticed, didn't seem entirely sure whose side he should be on; thus far he'd avoided getting overly involved in the increasingly heated debates between Marcel and Cami about how to take care of Davina. He clearly didn't want to ruin his barely-repaired friendship with Marcel, but it was equally apparent that he trusted Camille's judgment more in regards to helping someone overcome trauma. Since Camille was a licensed psychologist who had more or less stabilized her borderline psychotic sort-of-boyfriend, I tended to take her side more often than not, too.

Then something occurred to me, something that should have crossed my mind before. "Has she used any magic since she came back?" I asked, absentmindedly picking up a french fry off my plate and nibbling on it.

Marcel scowled at me for a moment, as if wondering what that had to do with anything. But then his scowl morphed into a thoughtful frown. "No," he said slowly, brow furrowed. "She's hasn't, at least not that I've seen."

"I haven't sensed anything," Sophie pitched in, her voice still hoarse but words coming more easily now. "I don't think she's done any spells at all since she was resurrected."

"Because she can't?" Rebekah asked, concern coloring her tone. "Did she lose her magic because of what happened?"

"Her power's still there," Ezra disagreed, setting down his sandwich and fiddling with the straw in his glass of soda. "She just isn't using it for some reason."

" _They said they'd do horrible things to me if I misuse my magic again_ ," Cami said softly, and it was clear from the way she said it that the words weren't her own.

Sophie stiffened slightly. "What did you just say?"

Cami sighed. "It's something Davina said to me right after Klaus and I found her at the cemetery. She said that while she was...dead, it was dark and lonely at first. But then these voices came. They berated her and attacked her, told her that she'd failed and betrayed her coven and that if she did anything else wrong she would suffer for it."

"The ancestors," Sophie said, and even through the roughness of her voice I could hear the awe. "They spoke to her?"

"They _tortured_ her," Cami snapped, and there was so much venom in her tone that Sophie actually flinched back in her seat, startling so badly that she knocked her over glass of ginger tea.

"The ancestors," Sophie said after she'd taken a moment to collect herself, flashing Marcel an apologetic look as he quickly wiped up the mess she'd made with her drink, "are very...traditional. They believe in following the rules, and more importantly they believe in their own power. Their...righteousness, I suppose you could say. They believe that they know best, and that anyone who doesn't agree should..."

"Suffer and die?" Ezra supplied, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat, apparently not interested in finishing his food anymore.

Sophie winced again. "Yeah," she said weakly. "Something like that."

"So that's why she's not doing any magic," Rebekah remarked. "Well, as reasons go, that's fairly understandable."

"Very understandable," Ezra added, eyes darkening. "Fear of torture is good motivation for toeing the line. Good motivation for anything, really."

Klaus and I got matching murderous looks, the same as we always did whenever Ezra mentioned torture and our thoughts invariably drifted to Sirena and how we were going to utterly destroy her whenever we crossed paths again. But I took a deep breath to calm myself and Klaus did the same, and we returned our focus to the situation at hand.

"Maybe I should talk with her," I said, surprising myself because I hadn't really been planning to say that, it had just sort of come out on its own. But once the thought was out there, it seemed like a good idea. "I can probably coax her into practicing her magic again," I went on. "She enjoyed it before, right? Before everything went crazy and people started trying to kill her."

"She loved it," Sophie agreed. "I was pretty estranged from the coven, but it was clear to see that she loved her magic."

"You think getting back into it again will help cheer her up?" Marcel asked, looking thoughtful.

I shrugged. "It's worth a shot," I said. "Nothing else seems to be working." We'd even brought her musician friend by to hang out with her and while that had cheered the girl for the duration of his visit, she'd lapsed back into despondency the second he'd left. "And I can make her an amulet," I added. "To protect her from the ancestors."

"Can you do that?" Marcel asked, looking faintly skeptical.

I cast him an irritated look. "I'm a Storme," I said testily.

Marcel did not look appropriately impressed. "So, yes?"

My irritation increased, but abated when Elijah laughed, reaching out and taking my hand in his .

"Yes," my mate said, amusement clear in his voice. "She can do it." He turned to me with that little smile that tugged at my heart. "Just be careful with yourself, darling. Alright?"

I understood his understated warning: don't lose myself to the magic. "I'll be fine," I assured him. "Making a protection amulet isn't anything like the darker stuff that makes me...different."

"Is _different_ Zoe-speak for blood-thirsty and ruthless?" Hayley asked, and even though her voice was light I could hear the tension underneath; she had, I recalled, been there when I'd killed Sirena's boy-toy Bernard in an exceptionally gruesome way.

"I'll be fine," I said again, more firmly. "I know my limits and I know better than to cross them."

Hayley hesitated, then nodded. "If you're sure," she said reluctantly.

"I am," I replied, and felt a wave of relief wash through me when the others nodded in acceptance.

Elijah lifted my hand up to his mouth, kissed my knuckles gently, then released me. "Good luck," he said.

"Thanks," I said, then pushed away from the table and stood up. "I'll try and talk with her a little now," I told the group as a whole. "It might be a while to convince her, so don't worry if I don't make a reappearance right away."

They all nodded again, returning to their meals as I left the dining room and went upstairs to Davina's room. Well, I took a quick detour to my own room first, to grab a pendant and stuff it into my pocket, but then I went down the hall and stood outside Davina's door, which was closed, with a _Do Not Disturb_ sign taped to it.

I knocked carefully, and listened.

"Go away," was the girl's immediate answer.

I knocked again, slightly more insistently.

"Go _away_ ," she said again, this time more vehemently.

I knocked for a third time, and had to hide my smile when she yanked the door open angrily, eyes bright with annoyance.

"What about _go away_ is so hard for everyone to understand?" she demanded.

"Well," I said lightly, brushing past her and stepping into her room, "I can't speak for the others, but I personally am a very slow-learner in some things. My father used to say that it was just because I was stubborn, but I'm fairly sure that a low IQ almost definitely factors in."

Whatever she'd been expecting me to say, that clearly hadn't been it. "You're not stupid," she said at last, shutting the door as I sat down on her beanbag chair and it became apparent that I wasn't going to leave anytime soon. "Stubborn is accurate, though."

"I'd blame my zodiac sign," I remarked cheerfully, "but I'm an Aries not a Taurus, so that's a bust, I guess."

Davina snickered a bit before she could stop herself. "You're being ridiculous on purpose," she said accusingly. Then she sighed. "What do you want, Zoe?"

I regarded her curiously. "What makes you think I want something?"

She scowled a bit. "Because everyone does," she said, the slightest hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "Every single time someone shows up and tries to be nice to me, all they're really doing is buttering me up for a favor."

"Well," I said, marshaling my thoughts, "while I could definitely use some help breaking the curse on the werewolves out in the bayou, that's not my top priority at the moment and it's certainly not why I'm here."

"You haven't broken the curse yet?" Davina asked, looking surprised. "But you've been working on it for days."

I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "It's proving to be trickier than I anticipated." A lie, sort of; I'd known it wouldn't be an easy thing, breaking the curse on the bayou werewolves, but this wasn't what I wanted to talk about with Davina right now and so I changed the topic. "Do you miss using your magic?" I asked her bluntly.

Her eyes widened in shock, and she shakily lowered herself into a nearby chair. "I don't...I haven't thought about it much," she said weakly, and even without looking or listening too closely I could tell she was lying.

I told her so. "Stop lying," I said, crossing my arm and scowling a bit as the motion buried me deeper in the beanbag chair. I shifted position slightly before the thing could swallow me whole and returned my attention to Davina. "You miss it."

She swallowed hard. "I do," she whispered. "But I can't..." She shook her head frantically. "I can't use my magic," she said, her words clipped and urgent. "They'll punish me if I do."

"The ancestors," I said, a bad taste in my mouth as I spoke. Angry spirits had always ticked me off; as I said before, I had no strong feelings about death and what comes after, but it seems like such a damn waste of your afterlife to be bitter and miserable and ruin the lives of the living. Talk about fucking petty.

"The ancestors," she echoed, and she sounded so scared it made me want to summon those angry spirits right then and thrash them.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten to calm myself down, and then gave Davina bright smile. "How about we make it so that they can't hurt you again? How does that sound?"

Her eyes brightened with a hopeful light, but she bit her lip uncertainly. "I don't think there's anything you can do," she said unhappily. "I mean, I appreciate your offer to try, but..."

"I know a spell," I said, talking right over her. "It's one my mother taught me and my brother when we were very young. It's incredibly simple, but very powerful. It'll protect you from them, I promise."

"Really?" she asked breathlessly, looking so eager that it hurt my heart.

"Really," I said, my smile growing. "And look what I have here!" I exclaimed, pulling the pendant Id grabbed in my room from my pocket. "A black tourmaline necklace, just right for this sort of spell!"

Davina's eyes got as big as dinner plates. "Zoe, I can't accept that! Do you know how expensive tourmaline is?"

I shrugged carelessly, as if I hadn't dropped over forty dollars on this piece of plain jewelry. For me, giving it to Davina and using it to help protect her and feel safe again made it more than worth it. Hell, I would have paid ten times the amount if necessary. "I bought it ages ago," I told her, "but never charmed it for me or Ezra because it would interfere with our shielding spells. So if you don't take it," I added lightly, "it'll just get dumped in a box somewhere and go to waste."

She chewed on her lip, clearly conflicted. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Davina," I cajoled. "We do this and you can use your magic without needing to be scared of those stupid ancestors. You can be yourself again, and not be scared. Doesn't that sound good?"

"That sounds..." Davina took a shuddering breath. "Absolutely great!" She looked back at me with excitement and determination in her gaze. "What do we need to do?"

I flailed a bit, extracting myself from the bean bag chair, but managed to bounce to my feet quickly enough. "Hold this in your hands," I said, handing her the necklace. "And repeat after me: I call upon the universe, to make this my protective charm."

" _I call upon the universe_ ," she parroted obediently, clutching the pendant tightly, " _to make this my protective charm_." Magic swirled around her, crackling in the air like electricity.

"Whenever I wear it," I continued, channeling some of my own energy into the spell to give the protection an extra boost, "I shall endure no harm."

" _Whenever wear it, I shall endure no harm_." Her voice was stronger now, and I could feel the power surge as the protective spell went into effect, sinking into the tourmaline and taking root. Davina, looking slightly dazed, as if she hadn't expected it to work, slipped on the necklace and let it dangle from her neck, the black stone glinting in the light. "I'm safe now," she whispered, eyes bright with happy tears.

"You're safe," I agreed, feeling incredibly satisfied. "They can't get to you now. Technically," I added cheerfully, "not much of anything can hurt you now. That pendant will protect you from just about everything. The spell needs to be renewed twice a year, once at the spring equinox and once at the autumn equinox, but other than that it'll stay strong and keep you safe from harm."

She threw herself at me, arms wrapping around me in a tight hug as she gave another joyful sob. "Thank you so much!"

I'll admit it, I sniffled a bit myself, a tad overwhelmed by her gratitude and how alive she seemed again. This was the Davina I remembered, the Davina we'd all been waiting to see again. "You're welcome," I said softly, hugging her close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And there's that fixed. ;) In any case, we'll be returning to the plot properly in the next chapter, namely breaking the curse on the bayous wolves. Doing that should take long enough for Hayley's pregnancy to develop and Reginald Storme a.k.a the Evil Uncle to finally show up. In the meantime, though, onward to curse-breaking! :D


	83. Chapter 83

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back, everyone! I hope you're all doing well! Thanks as always to all you fabulous readers out there. You guys rock! Also, massive thanks to all of you guys out there who were so fabulously supportive of me after those nasty reviews last week; you're all angels and I love you guys so much! To those of you who don't know what happened, I had a reviewer over on ffnet who called me some very not nice things (you can find my original blog post about the event [ here ](http://yuzukimist.tumblr.com/post/151143438455/so-i-recently-received-some-flames-on-a) ).  
> I responded with what I like to think was an effective scolding/call-out, and everyone else was just really supportive and great, and you guys are awesome. So, thank you for all your support, it really means the world to me. :) Also, just in general, this chapter is dedicated to everyone in Florida (and the surrounding states) right now. Hurricane Matthew is looking like some serious business; I hope all you over there are safe!
> 
> In any case, this chapter is interesting (for me, at least) because it involves Hayley's POV for the first half. And while I know that not all of us are overly fond of Hayley, I personally think that she's had some decent development in the story thus far; also, now that the focus of the plot is going to shift to the rest of her pregnancy and all that stuff (along with Uncle Reginald Storme coming into town because we've been waiting a while for that) I figured it was time to bring Hayley back into focus again. But I'm...well, me, so there's more Klaus and Ezra bonding/friendship moments in the latter half of the chapter, too, along with some werewolf stuff. And a small reference to Charmed at one point in the first half of the chapter because...well, just because. XD Anyway, enjoy! ;D

**Chapter 83**

" **Sometimes I just need reassurance that it's all worth the wait."**

* * *

Hayley was getting impatient.

Well, to be fair, she had already _been_ impatient and now it was just getting worse.

Two more weeks had passed since Zoe had given Davina her protection pendant, the one that shielded her from harm and allowed her to practice magic again without having to be afraid of retaliation from 'the ancestors'. It was two weeks that Zoe, Davina, and Sophie had spent researching the curse Celeste had put upon Hayley's werewolf family out in the bayou. Ezra was involved as well, but he didn't seem to be actively participating, just monitoring what the girls got up to. He was, as far as Hayley could tell, supervising.

She was pretty sure his supervising had more to do with his worry over his sister slipping towards dark magic again, but she figured bringing up the subject would just make everyone unnecessarily tense; she was also worried it might make them reconsider helping her, and she definitely did _not_ want that.

But still curiosity persisted. "Why," she finally asked Ezra one day as they passed each other in the hallway, "don't you just help them?"

He glanced over at her with a faint smile. "Are you asking as a curious friend," he replied lightly, "or as someone who desperately wants all hands on deck to break the curse on your clan?"

Hayley blinked in surprise, opened her mouth to answer and then shut it again, considering. Was that why Ezra's lack of participation had nagged at her so much? Because she was just so eager for the curse on the werewolves in the bayou to be broken?

_Maybe_ , she thought to herself. But that wasn't the whole reason. "A little bit of both, I guess," she acknowledged with a wry smile. "But mostly I'm just curious," she continued. "You were powerful enough to break the spell that Bastianna put on Kieran. I guess I'm just wondering why someone of your skill level won't lend a hand in breaking this curse."

"Well," he replied, his tone light and easy, "that fact that it's a curse rather than a hex makes a difference."

"Does it?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded. "Yeah. Breaking a curse is similar in theory, but in practice it takes more brute force, magically speaking. And I'm powerful, but Zoe's power's got more of a wallop when it comes to this sort of thing. Also," he tacked on, "she's working on it with two other female witches, and if I get involved it'll throw off the balance."

"Throw off the balance?" Hayley repeated, confused.

Ezra gave a slight smirk. "You remember that show in San Francisco with the three sisters and the big magic book in the attic?"

She scowled at him in confusion, but then snapped her fingers. "That one with Alyssa Milano, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You remember how they were such powerful witches because of how there were three of them?"

"They called it the Power of Three," Hayley recalled. "There was a symbol for it, wasn't there?"

"A triquetra," Ezra agreed. "It symbolizes the unity between three forces or entities. In any case, what's going on now is sort of similar. Zoe, Davina, and Sophie aren't sisters _exactly_ , but they are united in common purpose and you'd be surprised how much of a difference that makes."

"So," Hayley said slowly, trying to wrap her head around what he was telling her, "what you're saying is that if you shoe-horn your way into it, something'll get messed up."

"It's a possibility," he agreed. "So I've decided to stay out of it unless they actually ask for my help. Besides," he added cheerfully, "I know it _seems_ like this is taking forever, but they are making good progress."

Hayley heaved a big sigh. "I guess so," she answered doubtfully. "I mean, I know that they're working really hard, I just didn't think it would take this _long_."

Ezra chuckled a bit, and Hayley marveled at how much more at ease he was now compared to when she'd first met him. "Breaking a curse like this one is complicated," he said, patting her lightly on the back. "They need to be careful about how they do it or their efforts could just make things worse."

That was something Hayley hadn't known. "Really?"

"Really," he affirmed. "Celeste put some safeguards in that curse, to prevent tampering. Zoe and the others have had to bypass at least two of those roadblocks already, and they just found a third trap this morning."

"Wow," Hayley said, and meant it. "I didn't realize that curse-breaking was so...convoluted."

Ezra chuckled again. "Normally it isn't, but Celeste was apparently psychotic _and_ paranoid; once they get past all the outer layers of the curse, actually breaking the spell itself shouldn't be too hard. It's just getting past all of the other crap that's taking a while. I know it's hard for you," he added more seriously, his expression turning sympathetic, "but try to be patient. They're going to break the curse, I promise. I haven't seen Zoe this determined to do something since we stayed in New York and she decided that she wanted to win a hot dog eating contest on Coney Island."

Hayley's eyes widened. "She didn't."

Ezra grinned. "Oh, but she did. Didn't take first prize," he remarked, "but she did get fourth place. And then spent two hours throwing up because those forty-two hot dogs caught up with her sooner than she'd expected."

Hayley didn't know whether to be amused or horrified. "Forty-two?" she asked in disbelief.

"Forty-two," Ezra confirmed.

Amusement won out, and she burst into laughter. "Oh my God," she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath. "Wow."

"Wow," Ezra agreed, then sobered somewhat. "My point here," he went on more serious, "is that my sister is exceptionally dedicated to whatever she sets her sights on, even if it's something ridiculous like a hot dog eating contest. Or," he added pointedly, "something seemingly impossible like breaking an unbreakable curse."

Hayley thought that over for a long moment, and to her surprise discovered that she _did_ feel better about things now. It might take Zoe and the other two witches longer than she'd like to break the curse on her clan, but they weren't going to stop trying until they succeeded. They weren't going to just call it quits and abandon her clan to their fate. Zoe had made a promise, and clearly she meant to follow through and keep it. "Thanks," she said to Ezra with a grateful smile. "I think I needed to hear that.

"I know," Ezra said cheerfully. "That's why I said it. Now," he continued, "shouldn't you get going? You'll be late for your date with Jackson if you hang around here much longer."

Hayley felt her cheeks heat up. "It's not a date," she stammered.

"You're going on a romantic stroll with your betrothed," Ezra replied dryly. "That's like a textbook example of a date."

She rolled her eyes and tried to stifle her embarrassment. "It's hardly romantic," she mumbled. "It's a walk through the bayou and he'll be stuck as a wolf the entire time."

Now Ezra rolled his eyes. "You're overthinking it," he told her, sounding both exasperated and entertained. "It doesn't matter what form he's in; he wants to spend time with you, that's what counts."

She tried to not get her hopes us, but... "You really think so?"

"I really do," he said, and gave her a gentle push towards the stairs. "Now get going, before he comes here looking for you."

Hayley felt herself blush again, but obeyed, heading for the stairs and going down them in a quick but careful manner, mindful of the fact that she was definitely bigger in the middle lately and not quite as well-balanced. "I should be back by sundown," she said as she finally made it to the ground floor and strode for the door as fast as she could manage, her two vampire bodyguards trailing after her inconspicuously as she left.

* * *

"Why," Klaus asked, stepping out from the shadows as Hayley departed, "does it annoy me so much that she goes to meet with Jackson so often?"

"Well," Ezra said, turning around to face his friend and leaning back against he railing, "she is carrying your child. Maybe you're jealous that's she moving on from you?"

Klaus frowned for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm more than familiar with the feeling of jealousy," he replied. "This is...similar, but not quite the same. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I have Camille."

"Fair point," Ezra conceded, because anyone who knew Klaus even a little bit could tell that he was totally fixated on Cami and had absolutely zero interest in other women. Which was, Ezra mused, pretty interesting since it seemed like Cami and Klaus had yet to exchange more than affectionate embraces and chaste kisses. But whatever. As long as both of them were happy, that was all that mattered. _I wonder if Klaus is wolf enough to form a mating bond with her_ , Ezra wondered idly, then blinked slowly as something else occurred to him. "You said it aggravates you when Hayley goes to see Jackson," he said thoughtfully, "but that's it not _quite_ jealously, right?"

Klaus arched an eyebrow at him. "Something like that, yes."

"And that feeling," Ezra went on, sorting through in his head the tidbits of werewolf lore he and Zoe had shared with Klaus in the past months, "is it a Klaus-the-guy feeling, or a Klaus-the-wolf feeling?"

Klaus looked briefly startled, as if it hadn't occurred to him to wonder. Then his expression turned puzzled. "It's coming from the wolf," he commented quietly, sounding confused.

_Ah. And now it makes sense_. "I know what the problem is~" Ezra said, using an annoying sing-song voice to drag his friend out from wherever he'd gotten lost in his mind.

Klaus shook his head and then scowled at him. "Ezra," he growled. "Explain to me what's going on."

Ezra just gave him a shit-eating smile. "Ask nicely," he said lightly, "and _maybe_ I'll tell you."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I despise how infuriating you can be when you're in such a good mood," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "And I will _not_ ask nicely," he went on, a smirk coming to his lips. "You and Zoe said you would do whatever you could to help me understand my werewolf nature, did you not? Are you going to go back on your word?"

Ezra made a face, even going so far as to stick his tongue out childishly. "Okay, fine," he complained. "Throw logic and honor in my face, then. Sheesh." But then he gave a crooked smile. "It's an Alpha thing," he said at last.

"An Alpha thing," Klaus repeated dubiously. "Care to elaborate?"

Ezra took a moment to organize his thoughts. "Well," he said after a few moments, "it's like this, right? You're our Alpha, and Hayley's a member of our pack."

"She is?" Klaus asked, looking surprised.

"Of course she is," Ezra answered, rolling his eyes. "She was your lover once, and she's carrying your child."

"But she's the long lost heir to the Labonair family," Klaud argued. "Once she marries Jackson they'll rule the Crescent pack together."

"The key part of that statement being _once she marries Jackson_ ," Ezra replied. "She hasn't yet, and until she commits to him and his pack, she still belongs with us. The Alpha in you," he went on, "doesn't like that she's spending so much time with the leader of another pack. It's just a protective instinct, so don't worry about it too much; it's totally natural."

Klaus chewed on his lip, contemplating what he'd been told. "This werewolf business," he said finally, "is all very complex. I feel like it was easier when I was ignorant of the finer details."

Ezra laughed. "It's not that bad," he said. "You're just feeling cranky because you're being thrown into the deep end of the pool without floaties."

Klaus snorted. "If I drown," he responded dryly, "it will be your fault."

"Aw, don't worry," Ezra said with a wink. "I'm good at CPR so you're in no serious danger. I'd expect a favor in return, though, because you're not exactly my type."

Klaus shoved at him. "Cheeky bastard," he huffed angrily, laughing despite himself. "Go get ready for your date tonight; I'm finding your company more irritating by the second."

Ezra rolled his eyes but took off down the hall anyway. "Whatever you command, O Alpha," he said sarcastically, still smiling as he returned to his room to get changed. He had agreed, somewhat uncertainly, to take Rebekah to an opera show at the Mahalia Jackson Theatre for the Performing Arts that night, and he was pretty sure one of his usual outfits wasn't going to cut it.

Thankfully, he had a few hours to scrape together something resembling formal wear. Not that it really mattered; Rebekah wouldn't mind if he missed the mark, and everyone else there would be so dazzled by her that they'd likely not even notice his presence.

He grinned as he pictured it in his mind, everyone oggling his Bekah as they arrived and took their seats. Just picturing her in the form-fitting red dress she'd picked out was enough to make his heart beat double-time in his chest. _I'm the luckiest asshole alive_ , he thought in satisfaction, and his wolf gave a low rumble of agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, that was basically another family-centric chapter rather than a plot-centric chapter. We'll be diving back into plot stuff soon, I promise, but I wanted to make sure we have some nice heart-warming and funny moments before everything goes off the rails again, you know? XD Anyway, this chapter ended up being a lot of Ezra imparting his wisdom unto others...which I hadn't originally planned for, and yet it happened anyway. ;) Seriously, though, I think it's a good sign that he's able to give advice, like he does in this chapter, because it means that he is emotionally/psychologically/whatever in good enough condition to be able to give advice, you know? Like, if he was still an anti-social hot mess, he wouldn't be able to help Klaus or Hayley or anything, so maybe this was a 'Look how well Ezra's doing, yay!' chapter, and I just didn't notice until after I wrote it? XD
> 
> Anyway, thanks as always for tuning in. See you guys next time! :)


	84. Chapter 84

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we'll be returning the focus back to Cami a bit more since Kieran's had enough time to make a (mostly) full recovery from Bastianna's hex, and I think it probably high time he showed Cami that secret room of magic doodads. Now, that being said, I will once again be taking creative liberties with canon material, this time mostly because I'd actually stopped actively watching the show by this point in the plot (and also because I've diverted so much from canon that trying to go back now would be borderline impossible. Also I don't want to. XD).
> 
> Also, parts of this are from Kieran's perspective, which was an interesting change of pace. There's also some Zoe and Elijah, but I tried to keep the main focus of the chapter on Kieran and Cami. I failed, I think, and POV ended up split pretty evenly between all four (Kieran first, then Zoe, then Cami, and then finally Elijah), but hey, I tried. ;)

**Chapter 84**

" **When you make a commitment, you build hope. When you keep it, you build trust."**

* * *

"I still think you should rest some more," Cami said, worry lacing her tone.

"I've been resting for weeks, sweetheart," Kieran replied, trying to be patient. "I can't stay in this bed forever."

"But you almost _died_ ," his niece protested, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Almost being the key word there," Kieran pointed out. "Your friends saved my life, and I'm perfectly fine now."

"But it took you this long to recover," Cami argued. "What if it's too soon for you to be up and around?"

"Well," Kieran said reasonably, "I won't know until I try, will I?"

"But I don't-"

"Camille," he said gently, "if I spend another day stuck in this room, I really _am_ going to lose my mind. Besides," he added, "there's something I need to show you. I should have shown you sooner, but the time never seemed quite right."

"Something to show me?" she echoed, clearly confused. "What-"

"No questions yet," Kieran interjected, cutting her off. "Let me show you first, and we'll move on from there. Are you okay to drive?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "I'm not the one who just spent a month in bed," she replied in exasperation, pulling her car keys out of her pocket. "Of course I'm fine to drive."

Kieran had to bit his lip to hide his smile; he never ceased ot be equal parts amused and impressed by his niece, especially how direct she was, always telling you exactly what was on her mind. "Good," he said. "Go get the car started; I'm going to take a shower and get dressed, then I'll be right down."

"You shouldn't try and make it down the stairs on your own," Cami said worriedly, but Kieran shook his head.

"I really am fine, sweetheart," he told her. "There's no need to treat me like an invalid."

"But you-"

"Go start the car," he said firmly, putting as much authority into his tone as he could muster.

Cami huffed out an annoyed breath but complied, heading for the door with the keys jangling in her hand. "Fine," she said, "but I'm going to laugh along with everyone else when you faceplant at the bottom of the staircase."

This time Kieran didn't bother trying to hide his smile. "If I can't handle one flight of stairs on my own," he replied dryly, "I'll deserve the ridicule."

* * *

I rubbed the back of my neck tiredly as I surveyed our progress so far.

We had a thick and knotted piece of colored rope on the table between us; thanks to an obscenely complex linking and representation spell, that length of rope was our physical manifestation of the curse that bound the Crescent clan werewolves out in the bayou.

So far, we'd untangled two of the convoluted knots, one on each end of the rope. We had two more on each side, and then one final massive knot in the very middle of the rope.

The four smaller knots that remained represented the safeguards that Celeste had layered onto her curse to prevent anyone but her from tampering with it or attempting to break it, while the main knot in the center represented the main body of the curse itself.

"This is taking forever," I grumbled, trying to massage some of the tension out of my neck; I, along with Sophie and Davina, had spent the better part of the last couple weeks holed up in a guest room that we'd re-purposed into a witch workshop of sorts. I'd also spent the last ten hours hunched over the worktable, picking at a green and purple knot that would not loosen no matter any of us did. It was, unlike the weird backlash trap we'd unraveled a few days prior, a simple shielding spell. Or at least... _in theory_ , it was just a simple shielding spell.

In reality, Celeste had strengthened the spell beyond what we'd anticipated, turning the magic equivalent of a white picket fence into a military-grade bunker that was capable of outlasting a nuclear strike.

Sophie had tried weakening it, and Davina had tried to find a way to sneak past it, but so far nothing we'd done had managed to loosen that stubborn barrier spell, and trying to untie the representation knot the old-fashioned way had resulted in blistered fingers all the way around.

"We could just move on and try the next knot?" Davina said uncertainly after the silence between us had stretched on for too long.

"No," Sophie said, shaking her head. "If we unravel the others while this one's still in place, it'll take ten times as much effort on our part; we'll need to use extra energy just to compensate for the barrier. We need to break this shielding spell first."

"But we can't," Davina said, clearly aggravated. "We've tried everything."

"Not _everything_ ," I offered reluctantly. "I haven't tried nuking it at full power." A concentrated blast of my will and magical energy could be the metaphysical nuclear strike we needed to break the barrier knot.

"You can't," Davina said, right as Sophie said, "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" I demanded, crossing my arms.

"Because what if you go dark again?" Davina asked anxiously. "I know your brother's worried about it, too."

A slight niggle of anxiety sprang up in the back of my mind, but I squashed it down. "I wouldn't be doing any actual black magic, though," I argued. "Just smashing through the spell with my power."

"I still don't like it," Davina replied, and Sophie nodded in agreement.

"Why don't _you_ like it?" I asked Sophie, trying to stifle my annoyance.

"My concern," Sophie said, absently rubbing at her throat, "isn't so much that you'll go dark. I'm more worried about you using up all your energy breaking through the block and then not having enough juice left to us with the _next_ layer of the curse."

It was, I had to admit, a valid point. "Well," I replied after taking a moment to mull it over, "depending on how long it'll take to identify the next layer and decide how to deal with it, it's more than likely I'll have recovered my strength by then. And if not," I added with a what-can-you-do shrug, "we'll figure something out. The real question is do we think the risk is worth it to get past this stupid blocking spell." I flicked at the offending knot in annoyance and cursed under my breath as it released a shower of sparks in retaliation, adding new blisters to my hands.

Sophie and Davina both contemplated my words for a moment, Sophie with a thoughtful expression on her face and Davina with an unhappy one.

Davina, I knew, felt a need to watch my back and keep me on the right path; it came from both a need to pay me back for the pendant I'd made for her and what I hoped was genuine affection for me as a person. Whatever the reason, Davina was paying the role of the worried younger friend/sibling...or maybe the role of the Worried Witch Apprentice; I found I liked the sound of that better.

Sophie, meanwhile, was focused entirely upon the job of breaking the curse. She knew that some of us still weren't terribly keen on having her around; helping to break the curse on the Crescent pack would go a long way towards smoothing things over with those of our number who were still unsure of Sophie's loyalty.

I was, I'll admit, one of the ones still uncertain about her. I _wanted_ to believe that she'd finally come to her senses and understood that a lot of what she'd done prior to this point had been wrong; I just also happened to be an overprotective grudge-holding were-witch with tendencies toward paranoia.

Marcel seemed to trust her completely, which was interesting, especially considering her involvement with Davina's death. But he also seemed to have feelings of a non-platonic nature towards the Deveraux witch, and that probably factored in as well.

In the end, I was left with just my gut instincts. And those were telling me that, for now at least, Sophie could be relied upon.

My instincts were also telling me that my idea would work. I would probably faint afterward, but it would work.

 _Okay, Zoe_ , I told myself. _Go time. Make them agree with you. Gotta get this done_. "Haven't we wasted enough time trying to find an easy way past this?" I asked them. "Are we really going to keep ignoring the obvious solution?"

A long stretch of silence as the three of us looked at each other and then down at the long hunk of rope.

"Alright," Sophie said at last, her expression grim. "Let's do it."

* * *

Cami looked up at the building with a puzzled frown. "Your big secret is that you helped some guy fix up his apartment complex after Hurricane Katrina?" she asked in disbelief.

Her uncle gave her an indulgent smile. "Not quite," he said, sounding amused. "Come on, let's go inside."

She blinked at him, somewhat startled by his quick steps, then hustled after him. "Do you have an apartment here?" she asked curiously; as far as she knew, her uncle had always stayed in his room in the rectory at St. Anne's.

"Not quite," Kieran said again, holding the door open for her then shutting it carefully behind them. He took a moment to speak with the man behind the front desk; he was presumably the owner, since he seemed to be on friendly terms with Kieran and he had a large key-ring hanging from his belt.

"Cami," Kieran said, waving at her to come over, "this is Frederick Waverly, the building owner. Fred, this is my niece, Camille."

"Ah," Fred said, shaking her hand cheerfully, "Sean's sister, right? It's nice to meet you, Cami."

"Nice to meet you, too," she stammered, heart pounding from the mention of her twin. Curious and even more confused than before, she turned to her uncle with a questioning look.

Kieran just shook his head ever so slightly, before turning back to Fred. "Cami's going to be helping me take care of my things here," he said. "I came down with a nasty case of the flu a couple weeks back, and it's taking me longer to get back on my feet than I expected. Anyway," he continued on amicably, "it's made me realize that it might be time to admit that I'm getting a little long in the tooth and need some more help keeping all my affairs in order."

Fred nodded as if this made all the sense in the world. "It sure is hell getting old," he said sympathetically. "Why, in my day I could run a good five miles without breaking a sweat. These days, it's a miracle if I can walk down to the cigar shop on the corner without my back giving me a fit!" He waved a hand. "Ah, but don't mind me now, Father. You go on and get to work with your niece. I'm sure there's plenty for you to be showing her."

"Thanks, Fred," Kieran said, and then ushered Cami towards the elevator.

Cami waited until the doors had closed behind them with a little ding, and then whirled to face her uncle. "Who was that?"

Kieran gave a faint smile. "Fred," he answered. "The owner of the building. He's also," he continued, seeing her aggravated expression, "a former member of the Faction. He's not actively involved anymore, but I'm pretty sure he knows what I've got going on here."

Cami was only more confused now. "What do you have going on here?" she asked, thoroughly baffled.

The elevator reached the right floor and Kieran gestured for her to step out. "Easier for me just to show you," he replied, and led the way down the hall to apartment number three-oh-three.

Kieran pulled out a key and unlocked the door to #303, stepping inside and calling "Come on in, Cami," over his shoulder.

Biting her lip uncertainly, she followed after him. And then scowled as she took in her surrounding. "It's just a dingy little apartment," she said with a sigh, noticing the boring IKEA-esque furniture and the fine layer of dust that seemed to cover everything.

Kieran slanted her an amused look. "Have some patience, kiddo," he said, and then crossed the room to a small closet.

Still curious despite herself, she trailed after him, and then gasp a little gasp of shock as he reached inside and pried loose a wooden panel in the back of the closet that was marked with an X.

"What the hell?" she blurted out, stunned beyond belief to see a hidden room beyond the gap in the closet. She couldn't see clearly in the gloom, but there seemed to be filing cabinets and shelves lining the walls, with books and folders stacked onto every shelf and scattered across every flat surface, as well as some chests and small boxes shoved into the corners of the space. "Uncle Kieran," she said, her throat suddenly dry and tight, "what is this place?"

Kieran turned around and held out a hand towards her. "Let me show you," he said.

* * *

Elijah was in the middle of a meeting with two of Marcel's informants when he felt it. At first, he wasn't sure what the feeling was. A slight twinge of exhaustion...

At first he disregarded it, brushing it aside dismissively, convinced that it was his own weariness. But then the twinge turned into something more, something sharper and more insistent, and after taking a moment to examine the feeling more closely, he realized that the sensation of exhaustion wasn't his own but rather something radiating out from the strange bond he shared with Zoe, the connection she'd called their 'mate bond'.

And as soon as he identified the source of the tired feeling, he began to wonder what the cause was. She had, he knew, been working fervently on breaking the Crescent curse for the last couple weeks, and he knew (as the man who shared her bed most nights) that she hadn't been sleeping particularly well lately. But never before had he sensed any of her exhaustion come leaking along their bond; ever since he'd learned of the bond and Zoe had explained it to him, he actually hadn't sensed much of anything from her, other than an occasional burst of satisfaction and affection (dare he call it love?) whenever she was around him.

Zoe had assured him that the uncertainty and muted nature of their bond was normal. "It's still in the early stages of development," she'd told him after he'd expressed a bit of concern over how erratic their connection seemed. "My parents were married for eight years before their bond finally finished opening up completely. We just need to be patient, that's all." Then she'd kissed him and he'd been thoroughly distracted from the topic altogether.

Now, though...the feelings coming down through that bond were stronger, more insistent. Not enough to totally occupy his own thoughts, but distracting enough that he sent away the two vampire scouts because he was having trouble concentrating on the conversation they were having about...what had they been talking about? He couldn't recall; something about patrols?

 _It seems like I was more distracted than I realized_ , he thought wryly, then turned his attention to the bond tying him to Zoe. _Are you alright?_ he thought at her, trying to 'project' the way she'd been trying to teach him. "It's mate-specific telepathy," she'd explained. "But I've heard that it's tricky to get the hang of, and not all mate-pairs develop the knack for it."

Elijah was both amused and frustrated to discover that he either had no knack for it or it was something he (or maybe they) would need to work on, because there was nothing but mental static in response to his projected question.

 _Zoe?_ he tried again. _Are you alright?_

And...still nothing.

He tried projecting more intensely. _**Zorana**_.

That got a reaction, albeit a faint one. There were no words, but a distracted sort of acknowledgment hummed down through the bond. A moment later, a hazy image projected down to him through the connection; a small smile quirked his lips when he realized it was a Do Not Disturb placard with a picture of Einstein and the words Brilliant Minds At Work in smaller words underneath.

Even telepathically, his Zoe was sassy. Amused, he returned his attention to his list of things to do for the day. He was just heading out to investigate a possible zombie sighting on the other side of the city when suddenly he sensed more exhaustion from Zoe's end of the bond.

Only this wasn't the little ping of weariness from before. It was much more intense. Heavier, like a load of bricks dumped on his shoulders, weighing him down and dragging him down to the bottom of a deep, dark ocean where the pressure could crush him into oblivion.

 _Zoe?_ he projected, letting his concern float along the bond. _What's wrong?_

A strange sort of dizziness was the only response he got, followed by an emptiness so complete, it was like Zoe was closed off their connection.

Or blacked out.

"Zoe!" he exclaimed, reversing course and barreling back inside the Abattoir, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste to get to her.

He raced down the hall to where he sensed her presence, in that workshop she'd set up with Davina and the Deveraux woman. Anxiety making his heart pound in his chest, he knocked on the door.

It was yanked open barely two seconds later by a frazzled looking Davina; with her hair sticking up on the sides and a streak of what seemed to be soot across her cheek, she looked like she'd narrowly missed being struck by lightning. Sophie, he noticed as he stepped into the room, looked much the same, and the sleeve of her jacket actually seeming to be smoldering a bit.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Where is-" And then he saw her, slumped on a couch against the far wall. "Zoe!"

"She's fine," Sophie said hastily, quickly stepping out of his way as he rushed across the room towards his lover. "She just overdid it, that's all."

"Overdid what?" he growled, kneeling down and taking Zoe's limp wrist in his fingers, searching for her pulse.

"She was using a jolt of power to break through the block knot," Davina explained, her voice shaking but her tone confident. "She had to use a lot of power, though, so she passed out once she finished."

Elijah grit his teeth, grounding himself in the reassurance that he could feel Zoe's pulse in her wrist; more than that, he could _hear_ it: her heart was beating like normal, strong and steady. "I can't believe she would be this reckless," he grumbled.

Sophie surprised him by giving a rough laugh. "Seriously?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him in amusement. "Have you even _met_ your girlfriend?"

A small smile came to his lips at that. "True enough," he acknowledged and then the smile widened. _My girlfriend,_ he thought to himself. Those two words together made him unspeakably happy, despite the fact that they didn't even come close to describing how he felt about Zoe and what she meant to him.

 _I love you_ , he projected to his mate, and was rewarded as the keeper of his heart smiled in her sleep.


	85. Chapter 85

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, one and all! I hope you're all doing well! Thanks as always to all of you reading this, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. 
> 
> Anyhow,in the interests of moving the plot along, we'll be skipping over the rest of the curse-breaking process. I know it's important, but I feel like we've spent a lot of time on the Crescent curse lately, and honestly I think I've dragged it on longer than the canon plotline did! Also, I need Jackson in human form so he and Hayley can start properly dating and stuff. Also because we need to get the ball rolling on bringing together the supernatural community in New Orleans, and that ain't happening until the Crescent alpha can walk on two legs and talk without barking. ;) And once we get that started, it won't be much longer until Cami learns more about some of the stuff in Kieran's secret apartment, we learn more about the Shadow Coven, and then Hayley's pregnancy will be finishing up, and then we'll be dealing with baby Hope being kidnapped and something really bad going down with Zoe and evil Uncle Reginald.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter starts off in Zoe's POV, and then we change tracks and have some Klamille action in which I mixed together and re-purposed a couple of my favorite bits of dialogue from the show. Basically, it's a nice happy chapter with nothing terrible dramatic or traumatic, just our heroes enjoying life for a change. :)

**Chapter 85**

" **Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life."**

* * *

We broke the curse all the way about two and a half weeks after I blasted apart the block knot. To say that we were satisfied would have been a gross understatement. We were _ecstatic_. Well, as ecstatic as three sweaty sleep-deprived witches could be, anyway.

It had taken a lot of effort, though, and a lot of time. Sophie, Davina, and I were exhausted. Like, take-a-week-long-nap tired.

When I came downstairs from the workshop to find Hayley and Jackson hugging, though? I knew it was all worth it. The look of relief and awe on Jackson's face...as if he'd been given everything on his Christmas list and then told that he'd won a million dollars on top of it. And the joy in his eyes as he gently kissed Hayley on the lips and promised to 'take her on a real date' was enough to make me tear up a bit myself. The fact that he was wearing a pair of borrowed sweatpants that didn't fit him and looked like his hair hadn't been brushed in who knows how long didn't even seem to matter to him in the slightest, he was so excited to have his human body back.

Hayley glanced over, saw the three of us witches huddled at the bottom of the stairs, and excused herself from Jackson for a moment.

"So," I said with an awkward wave as she came over. "Looks like we did it. Sorry it took so long-" I was cut off as she threw herself at me and wrapped me in what might have been the tightest hug in all my long life. Seriously. I'm pretty sure she cracked both my spine and a couple ribs. But hey, I'm a fast healer.

"Thank you," she said, choking on a sob. "Thank you so much. All of you," she added, releasing me and snatching Davina into an equally fierce embrace. "I know you promised, but I never thought...I never dared to hope..." She broke off an another happy crying sound, then stepped away from Davina to look at Sophie.

Sophie looked back, her expression wary.

Hayley glomped her, too, gushing out her gratitude and the look of surprise on Sophie's face was almost comical. "Thank you so much!" the pregnant werewolf cried, and I briefly wondered if she really was this grateful or if it was the pregnancy hormones blowing things out of proportion.

Well, either way it was nice to appreciated; I could tell from Sophie's expression that she was enjoying it, too. And when Hayley and Rebekah decided to throw a massive party to celebrate our success, I found myself not entirely opposed to the idea. Which considering my usual attitude on parties, was saying a lot.

I actually willingly put on a dress, a pretty purple off-the-shoulder cocktail thingie that Rebekah actually seemed to approve of. Or maybe she was just considering it a win that I'd put on a dress at all, who knows. The look on Elijah's face when he saw me, though, made the frustration of getting ready more than worth it. The heat in his eyes made it abundantly clear that he was undressing me with his gaze and I knew that we'd be having a very steamy night in my room later.

Rebekah, of course, was dazzling like always, and with my brother on her arm (and actually wearing a tux, no less) it was like some pair of flawless gods had descended to us from Olympus, they looked so good. Cami had dressed in a simple summer dress, and Klaus was wearing a handsome but understated dress shirt; they looked ridiculously perfect together and I found myself silently encouraging them to hurry and kiss already, dammit.

Marcel and Sophie were dressed in what Rebekah deemed 'dressy casual', both of them in slacks and nice shirts. They didn't seem to want to mingle that much, mostly sticking to themselves at a table and talking to each other in low, earnest voices.

Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Well, mostly everyone.

Davina, though...

Well, she looked like she wasn't sure what to do with herself. Physically, she looked great, wearing a turquoise dress that had some sort of peacock theme going on, but the lost look on her face reminded me that she was all alone here. Her friend Josh had been around earlier, but then his shift for watch duty had started (because we weren't taking any chances, even though things seemed to be going well) and he'd left, stranding her at a party where everyone else was already paired up or part of a group.

Since I found myself feeling responsible for the young teenage witch, I kissed Elijah on the cheek, promised to find him again later, and then went to sit with Davina.

She seemed surprised when I sat down with her, a glass of sparkling cider in one hand and a plate of deviled eggs in the other. She smiled once I sat down and started talking to her, though, and the two of us whiled away the remaining hours of the party together, chatting amicably on a variety of topics. I learned that she had a collection of jazz music, with CDs of Louis Armstrong sharing shelf space with Dizzie Gillespie and Miles Davis, and she grinned when I confessed that I had a weakness for Harlequin paperbacks; she was especially delighted to learn that when my brother and I had stayed for a couple years in Tulsa (a stint of living that stands out in my memory because we actually stayed in one place long enough to rent an apartment and not lose the deposit for breaking our lease), I'd had two whole bookcases full to bursting with romance novels.

She then confided in me that she'd always nursed a silent desire to go see a musical on Broadway; I was not terribly keen on musicals, but somehow the two of us ended up hatching a plan to take a trip to New York in the summer. We even whipped out our phones and scoured the internet for information on the shows that would be playing then; we argued back and forth a bit between whether to see _Aladdin_ or _Cats_ , but after a long stretch of debating we decided to split the difference and go to see _The Lion King_.

And that decision sparked off a long conversation about Disney in general. We discussed the Pixar buyout, whether sequels were a good idea or a terrible attempt at just milking more money from people, and which of the classics we liked better; I was a _Pocahontas_ girl, for all that it was historically inaccurate in the extreme, whereas Davina loved the _Hunchback of Notre-Dame_. I also confessed to a fondness for _Treasure Planet_ , and while she laughed at me, she also admitted to secretly liking _Atlantis: The Lost Empire_ , so the two of us spent a little while laughing at ourselves before going on to ponder how Woody from _Toy Story_ had all but tried to murder Buzz Lightyear in a kids' movie and yet it was one of the most popular Pixar films of all time and held up as a shining beacon of what entails a good friendship. Don't get me wrong, I adore the movie and cry at all the appropriate times, but it astounds me the things we let children watch these days.

Eventually, the other party guests left, leaving just us and our funky little extended family hanging around.

"This was fun," I blurted out, and if I sounded surprised by that declaration, it was only because I _was_ surprised that I'd had a good time. Normally parties had me climbing the walls and feeling itchy, but I'd actually enjoyed myself this time.

Davina nodded like she understood exactly where I was at; I guess since she was also a socially awkward witch with trust issues, maybe she did. "It was fun," she agreed with a shy smile. "Thanks for hanging out with me."

"Anytime," I said easily, and meant it. Davina was easy to talk to, like the sweet baby sister I'd never had.

I marveled at how a random decision by myself and my brother to come to New Orleans to hide from our last living blood relative had resulted in us acquiring a strange new sort of family. It was...odd, but nice, too. Very nice. It gave me a feeling of...belonging. Of fitting in, when I'd never quite fit in right even before my parents had been murdered and my twin and I cursed to live forever as part of some inexplicable scheme of my uncle's.

 _Ah_ , I recalled with a slight pang of bitterness, _that's right._ _Reginald will be in town soon_. The reminder dampened my cheerful mood, but the despair was mollified somewhat by the knowledge that while my uncle was a determined man, he was not always a punctual one. Like both me and my brother, his perception of time was slightly distorted from physical immortality. _Soon_ to him could mean anything from _in a week_ to _five months down the road_ ; to someone with eternity stretching out before them, anything under a year qualifies as a quick blink of the eyes.

So I swallowed down my anxiety, thank Davina for a great night of companionship, and then went back to Elijah, who was waiting patiently for me at the bottom of the stairs, a delectable smile on his lips and promises in his eyes.

* * *

"Well," Klaus remarked lightly as he stood with Cami on one of the outer balconies and watched the last of their guests drive off into the night, "it looks like our little soiree was a success."

"You say that like you're surprised," Camille replied, sounding amused.

Klaus gave her a wry smile. "Can you blame me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "The last party hosted by a Mikaelson ended in multiple kidnappings and the entire house going up in flames. I have to admit," he added, "I was concerned about tonight's festivities falling victim to my family's unique brand of ill luck."

Cami gave a slight sigh, shaking her head. "Only you can say things that sound so melodramatic," she remarked, "and make it seem so sexy."

Klaus actually felt himself blush, but didn't let it throw him. Instead, he turned to face her more fully, reaching out a hand to twine her fingers with his. "Melodramatic, eh?"

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "Maybe just a little," she said, her tone teasing and playful.

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "Camille," he said, and then hesitated, at a loss for words. No matter how hard he racked his brain, he could never think of the right thing to say to her. He liked to think he managed to say moderately passable things at some of the right times, but in moments like these, where it was just the two of them and only the night sky watching, his quick tongue deserted him and he was left wondering what on earth he'd done to deserve the beautiful goddess standing beside him.

She was kind and generous and understanding, and he was a worthless, heartless bastard. Literally.

And yet in her eyes, he saw a version of himself that was something more. And he wanted to be the man that she saw when she looked at him. Wanted to be that man so badly, there was almost nothing he wouldn't do.

It was why he'd yet to take their relationship beyond the basic courting stage. He'd taken her to lunch. They'd gone to see a movie and gotten a late dinner after. They'd even gone on one of those ridiculous steamboat rides down the Mississippi and gone to the Creole Creamery for ice cream one day.

And yet during all those dates, he'd never kissed her, aside from a quick peck on the cheek or a chaste brush of the lips. And that was...painful. Because he wanted to kiss her, very badly. He wanted to hold her close and caress her and tell her how amazing and gorgeous and absolutely perfect she was.

Instead, he blurted out something that he'd been thinking the entire time but had fully intended to keep to himself. "I don't deserve you," he told her, the admission dragging itself out of him with a painful tugging sensation flaring up in his chest; it was almost the metaphysical sensation of a large scab being ripped off a barely-healed wound, and he wanted to kick himself for not keeping better control of his tongue.

But he never could seem to keep those pesky insecurities to himself whenever he was around her. It was almost as if that was yet another reason why he was so drawn to her; she'd had him pegged from the start and nothing he'd ever shown or said had ever seemed to frighten her away. If anything, she encouraged him to open up to her and only held on to him more tightly after every little revelation, as if she was afraid that he'd slip and be washed away in that darkness if she looked away for too long.

He loved her.

And it terrified him. He didn't know what to do with it, that feeling. Didn't have any real understanding of the concept, not when everyone in his life had shown him only glimpses of it. He knew he loved his family, but it was different from this. More of an obligation, a loyalty to his blood that had been instilled in him from a young age. He would go to great lengths to protect his brother or sister, but even that dedication paled in comparison to his devotion to Cami. He felt a similar kind of familial loyalty towards Ezra and Zoe, a instinctive protectiveness and togetherness that, once he turned his gaze inward and inspected the side of his heritage that he'd previously paid little attention to, seemed to have to do with the fact that they were, in their words, his pack. Another sort of family, he supposed, although he still wasn't entirely what it meant that they'd claimed him as their alpha; it was touching, in a way, he just didn't know what it _meant_.

And even those feelings couldn't hold a candle to the all-consuming flame that was his fascination and affection for Camille. It was like he'd been adrift his entire life and she was the haven he'd been searching for, the anchor to ground him when otherwise he would drown in the darkness. She was the warmth and light of the sun after too much time spent in the never-ending night, and there was absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for her.

And when she answered his unintended proclamation of unworthiness, it only added to his love for her even more.

"Oh, Klaus," she said, and her tone wasn't pitying or patronizing or impatient. No, her voice was like the look in her eyes, the expression on her entire face. Understanding, sympathetic, and at the same time affectionate. "Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true," he told her honestly.

She wrinkled her nose at him like she thought he was being unusually dense. "Okay, well, first of all let's examine your statement, shall we?"

"Can we not?" he asked, aiming to keep his tone light but falling short by a fair bit. Not that it mattered whether he tried to make light of it or not; Cami always took these odd little moments to heart, seizing them as opportunities to help him work through the shadows and chains he'd wrapped around his heart and soul to keep himself safe throughout the centuries

And sure enough, she ignored him completely. "To start with," she said matter-of-factly, "you're a good man-"

He snorted derisively. "Oh, please," he said, scoffing. "I am many things, Camille, but a good man has likely never been one of them. I am, and always have been, a monster. Some of the things I have done, Cami...Terrible, awful things."

"So that makes you a _dangerous_ man," she countered, "but not necessarily a bad one."

He gave her a disbelieving look, even as he struggled between the hope she offered and the shame and regret lurking within him. "Camille, I appreciate that you think so, but I assure you: you're wrong. There's only one thing I've ever been _good_ at, and it's causing others pain; there's no _true_ good in me, I promise, no matter how much I wish otherwise."

She gave him an annoyed look. "Klaus-"

"I could kill you," he told her gently. "I could end your life in the blink of an eye, so quickly that you might not even notice. Like stepping on an insect or blowing out a candle. I could hurt _you_ , Cami, don't you see that?"

And still she didn't budge. "I know you won't hurt me," she said, dead serious and not backing down. "I've known that from the second we met." She reached out and caressed his cheek. "I trust you."

"You shouldn't," he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm-"

"If you say _monster_ again," she said chidingly, "I'm going to start getting annoyed."

"But I _am_ ," he argued. "I'm dangerous, Camille."

"Not to me," she said, giving that sweet little confident smile that sent his heartbeat off on an even more erratic roundelay than before.

"Camille," he said with a sigh, "I don't...I'm not..." He floundered, at a complete and total loss for words. "I don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing," he huffed out at last, crossing his arms over his chest.

Camille startled him by bursting into laughter, the sound of it like the best musical symphony in the world. "Oh, honey," she said, eyes sparkling with mirth. "That's so not the pick-up line I was expecting from someone of your age. So much for all those years and years of experience, huh?"

He smiled at her gentle teasing, and absentmindedly reached out to twine his hand with hers. "In all my centuries of living," he told her sincerely, "I've never had _any_ experience like what I have with you. _Never_."

She looked delighted by that, although she turned away to hide how wide her smile was. "Good thing you walked into Rousseau's and tipped me a hundred, then," she said lightly.

He tugged her closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Camille..."

"It's actually funny how it worked out," she said softly, leaning against him. "I was actually covering a shift for another girl that night. If not for that, it could have been someone else standing here right now instead of me."

Klaus made a sound of disagreement. "You know, I prefer to see it the other way," he told her. "If it wasn't that night, that bar, that hundred dollar bill, it would have been...Jackson Square, staring at a painting. Or...Frenchman Street, listening to jazz." He spun her around so that they were facing each other, their faces barely two inches apart. " _I would have found you_ ," he promised in a whisper.

She sucked in a breath, as if his words had knocked the breath from her. Then she smiled, her beautiful blue-green eyes almost glowing in the light of the party lanterns that were strung up. "And there's that good guy I've been seeing all this time," she said softly, reaching up her free hand to trace her fingers along his jawline. "You see?"

He leaned into her touched, savoring it. "No, I don't see it," he told her. "But as long as you do, that's all that matters."

"I always see you," she assured him, and then closed the gap between them, burying her fingers in his hair and brushing her lips across his in what was probably the sweetest and most tender kiss he'd ever had in all his life. And then instead of pushing him for more, like others might have done, she pulled away and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, resting her head on his shoulder and breathing a light sigh on contentment.

He rested his cheek against her hair, inhaling her scent and basking in the warmth of her in his arms, reveling in the way that her breath ghosted against his skin and in the way that her heartbeat so close to his that it was almost like they were one unit together, two halves of a whole.

 _I love you_ , he thought, but didn't say it. He couldn't say it, not yet. But that didn't seem to matter, anyway; Camille saw it anyway. As she'd said, she _saw_ him, in a way no one ever had before.

And so he trusted her, and treasured her, and loved her. And even if he wasn't ready to say it yet, that didn't mean he never would be. It might take time, but he would tell her someday.

And he had a hunch that when he finally said it, on that bright day in the future, after the dark times of blood and death and fear were over, she would give him that smile of hers that he adored so much, and maybe even say "I know" because of course she knew, she understood everything inside of him that he didn't say. And then they would pass a perfect afternoon in a corner cafe somewhere, laughing and smiling, and then return home to the strange family of choice waiting for them there.

He found himself greatly looking forward to that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah, that happened. :)
> 
> I struggled a bit with that Klamille portion of the chapter, but they're one of my favorite pairings (they are actually my OTP for the Originals, full-stop) so I tried to make it good. Of course, because I've drifted so far from canon, some of the Klamille bits from the show won't be in this story, but I'm trying to work in some of the more powerful lines they've had and capture just the general intensity of their connection. I'm probably doing a crappy job of it, but I'm trying. XD Anyway, a general thanks to everyone out there in the Originals fandom who ships Klamille, especially those of you who've made gif sets or videos or anything for the pairing; I immerse myself in all that stuff whenever I'm trying to get a feel for them and write scenes like this. I found the "100+ Reasons to ship Klaus & Cami" video on youtube (by K Chaney) to be really amazing, along with all the other videos out there with Klamille moments. You guys are so talented, it's unbelievable. :)
> 
> In any case, let me know what you guys thought of this chapter. Good, bad, so-so? Was it nice to finally break that silly werewolf curse? Are you looking forward to seeing Hayley and Jackson finally go on a proper date? Was it nice to have some bonding between Zoe and Davina? They're going to end up having a sisters/mentor-&-apprentice type of relationship down the road, and I wanted to start building that now. And what did you think of Klaus and Cami? Am I writing them okay? I know in the show they don't actually get together this soon, but I think they deserve to have that love sooner rather than later/never like in the show. XD
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will probably feature that aforementioned date with Hayley and Jackson, along with some more Shadow Coven shenanigans, most likely with another appearance from Sirena. Who is (and don't freak out on me here, people) probably not going to end up killed off in this story. Sorry! I know that will probably upset some of you, because of all the crap she's pulled, but I do have a plan for her, and there's some further exposition and insight into both her and the Shadow Coven that will shed light on why she is the way she is (i.e. a psycho with seemingly no remorse). And don't worry, while she might not get killed off, she certainly is going to get taken to school, so to speak, And yes, that is a euphemism for Zoe and Klaus beating the shit out of her for what she did to Ezra. Ezra himself may or not actually participate, depending on where he is psychologically at that point, but either way, Sirena is definitely going to answer for everything she's done. So just...trust me. I won't let you guys down. ;)
> 
> Okay, my end-of-chapter speech is now done. See you next time!


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 86, where we start off with a Hayley/Jackson date, switch over to Zoe and Cami for a bit, and then maybe get detoured by some Shadow Coven stuff. We may or may not run into Sirena depending on how it goes, but even if she doesn't pop up in this chapter she will definitely be reappearing soon. 
> 
> Hmm, what else to say about this chapter...well, I should probably lead with the fact that I stopped watching the show after the episode where Jackson was introduced and before the curse was broken and he got his human body back. So, basically, Jackson is going to be kind of OOC (okay, who am I kidding, totally OOC), because I don't know what's in-character for him and am just going to write what feels right to me. So I guess he'll function as an OC with Jackson's name, face, and general purpose as Hayley's love interest. Although I intend to make him her permanent love interest, because Zolijah. XD
> 
> Alrighty, I'll shut up now. Enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 86**

" **The most important thing is to enjoy your life. Be happy. It's all that matters."**

* * *

"Really?" Hayley asked with a wry half-smile when Jackson shared with her his plans for their first official date (because obviously their first meeting where the house has gone up in flames and she'd been abducted didn't count as an actual date, by anyone's standard.) "Dinner and a movie?"

"Hey," Jackson said, mock-offended. "You spend who knows how long stuck on four legs with a wagging tail and see if you don't appreciate the simple things. Do you know how badly I wanted to go have a sit-down dinner instead of hunting down rats in the bayou? Or how I would have killed to be at the midnight release of The Avengers? Seriously," he added earnestly, "if tearing out someone's throat could have gotten me admission as a wolf, I would have plopped my furry ass right into a seat in the theater, dog breath and all."

She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. "Oh, you're terrible," she said, gasping for breath.

"Just being honest," he said cheerfully.

She shook her head, still grinning. "Okay, fine," she relented. "Dinner and a movie it is. Although I should warn you, I'm not in the mood for a horror flick. Got enough of that in my life already."

Jackson sobered somewhat and nodded. "Copy that. Nothing scary or morbid," he replied dutifully, then held out his arm in a gentlemanly gesture she would have expected more from an old timer like Klaus or Elijah. "My lady?" he said teasingly, eyes dancing with excitement.

Laughing again, she rested a hand in the crook of his arm. "Lead on, good sir," she said, putting on a refined air and smiling even wider when she was rewarded with Jackson's deep chuckle of amusement.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

I heaved a sigh as I flipped through yet another dossier in a box full of file folders. I had, somehow, gotten talked into helping Cami go through the contents of her uncle's bizarre apartment collection of the paranormal. Kieran and Klaus had been with us earlier, but Kieran was still recovering from the curse and so Klaus had taken him home to the Abattoir despite the priest's protests, leaving me and Cami alone in the apartment until Klaus got Kieran settled back into bed.

Which, knowing Kieran's stubbornness, might take a while. And it would probably take twice as long on top of that because it was Klaus doing it; Kieran didn't seem to know how to feel about his niece's paramour. He seemed alarmed by and accepting of her choice in equal turns, one day grateful because Klaus could keep her safe, the next day panicked because his only living relative was dating a centuries old vampire-werewolf hybrid who was more than a little emotionally unstable.

Kieran had, at least, stop trying to separate them, giving in to the fact that Camille was clearly not going to leave New Orleans after all and that she was involved no matter what. His acceptance of that was, in my opinion, what had prompted him to share the apartment and its contents with her. He probably figured that if she was going to be involved, she might as well be well-prepared. And this little bunker of mystical odds and ends certainly was a good resource to have.

If only the artifacts came with little identification tags and the old files weren't written in dozens of different languages.

"This is in Indonesian," I said dolefully as I skimmed the papers in my hand. "I don't read Indonesian, Cami."

"Well," Cami said reasonably, not looking up from the artifact she was inspecting, "maybe you should learn. Expand your horizons and all that."

I rolled my eyes, tossing the file down onto the To Be Looked At Later pile, which was growing by the hour. "I know English," I said dryly. "And some Latin and Russian. So I'm content with my horizons as they are, thanks."

Cami glanced over at me with a faint frown. "You know Russian?"

I gave a small shrug. "A bit," I said. "My family on my father's side is from Belarus," I explained, then elaborated at her blank look. "It's a little land-locked country squished in between Russia, Poland, and the Ukraine, with Lithuania and Latvia right nearby, too."

"Wow," Cami said, blinking. "I feel like that time when I flunked my AP World History class in senior high."

I laughed a little. "It's okay," I assured her, "most people have never heard of it. People think of Europe and usually all that comes to mind is Britain, France, and Russia, and maybe Scotland and Ireland. No one really thinks of the little guys in between."

"But you're from there?" Camille asked, looking curious.

"My father was," I corrected. "I've never been there, although I'd like to go someday. It's supposed to be really pretty there; there are huge stretches of marshes that go on as far as the eye can see, and apparently forty percent of the territory is comprised of forests."

"Wow," Cami said again, then smiled. "Sounds like a good place for werewolves."

I nodded. "My father seemed to think so."

"Any idea why he left?" Cami asked, somewhat hesitantly as if afraid of broaching a difficult subject.

But this portion of my family history I had no problems with. "He met my mother," I told her easily. "She was doing some sort of study abroad thing and they crossed paths somehow, then wound up falling in love. They couldn't stand to be apart from each other, but certain members of her family," my stupid evil uncle along with a handful of distant cousins who had since gotten themselves killed in various unsavory ways, "didn't approve of the match, so they couldn't return to her home in Liverpool. And the more vindictive Stormes might have attacked my father's pack if they had remained in Belarus. So they decided to elope and move to the States, where they lived in marital bliss and and had me and brother."

"Until your uncle came after you," Camille said softly, sympathy shining in her eyes.

"Until Reginald came," I agreed, and had to swallow hard around the sudden lump in my throat. "And now he's coming again," I said in a slightly choked voice. "And I don't know how to stop him."

Camille abandoned whatever doodad she'd been inspecting and came over to squeeze my shoulder in solidarity. "We'll figure something out," she assured me. "We always do, right?"

I let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, but you don't _know_ him, Cami. He's like a force of nature. Powerful and relentless and terrible. He won't stop until he gets what he wants."

"And what does he want?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I have no idea," I admitted. "At first I thought it was just because Ezra and I represented the union between our parents that he hated so much, but now I'm not so sure. I don't think that he would have chased us for so long if that were all there was to it." I sighed. "But I just don't know what else he could want."

"Well, that's probably a good thing," Cami remarked with a small smile. "From what you've all told me, he seems like the sort of guy who's operating on such a level of evil that he's beyond comprehension. So that you don't understand his headspace? Probably a good thing, right?"

I chuckled, heartened despite myself. "I'd never thought to look at it that way," I acknowledged with a rueful smile. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said easily, squeezing my shoulder again before moving away back to the card table she'd set up as a work desk. "Now, how about we look for information on something in particular in this godawful mess. Something that could actually be useful to us right now." She crossed her arms and surveyed the stacks of newspaper articles and manuscripts littering the table. "Only the problem is, what might be helpful right now? What are our problems?"

I chewed on my lip thoughtfully. "Well," I said slowly, carefully tallying a list in my head. "We broke the curse on the werewolves, so that's something off our collective plate. But there are still some angry witches out there who might be interested in payback, and I'm not sure that-" I broke off as something occurred to me. "We should research the Shadow Coven."

Camille's eyebrows shot up. "You mean the murderous witch and warlock mercenaries that your uncle has hired to abduct you and Ezra? The same group that Sirena the Psycho is a member of?"

"Yep," I said with false cheer. "That would be them. Maybe if we knew more about them we could fight them better, or maybe even find some sort of a weakness we can use."

"Huh," was her only initial response. Then, "Alright, well, let's get started," as she reached for a stack of notebooks that were stacked on top of a shoe box of newspaper clippings. "You tell me what sorts of things to look for, and we'll see if my uncle ever dug up any dirt on them."

I gave a little clap of delight that made me feel about twelve years old. "Yay, research mission," I said, genuinely gleeful because this sort of detective shit was what I lived for.

* * *

"Admit it," Jackson said triumphantly as they sat down to dinner at Dreamy Weenies after leaving the movie theater after the credits had rolled for _Beautiful Creatures_. "You had a good time."

"Okay, okay," Hayley relented with a laugh, "I had a good time. For a movie about witches in the South, it was pretty great."

"The proper term," Jackson said with false seriousness, "is Casters. Come on, Hayley, pay attention." He waggled his finger at her.

She broke out into a round of snickers that had other patrons looking at her askance, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun on a date. Or actually...the last time she'd had this much fun, period.

"What can I get for you?" a server asked, coming over once she'd gotten control of her laughter.

"Mmm," Jackson said contemplatively as he reviewed the cheerful menu. "I will take a...uh, Satchmo Dog, please. With a Classic Beef Frank, please."

"Any sides with that?"

"Uh," Jackson said again as he scanned the options, "is the coleslaw any good?"

"Pretty great," the server said with a cheerful smile, "but I prefer the sweet potato fries."

"Well, I'll take the fries, then," Jackson said with a laugh before turning to Hayley. "How about you, babe?"

Hayley felt a small rush of pleasant surprise go through her at the ease with which he addressed her with an endearment. It added to the closeness she already felt between them, made her feel like the attachment she felt to him really might be something real. "I'll take the..." She looked at the menu helplessly. "The, uh..."

The server waited patiently, while Jackson's little smile turned into a charming grin that sent her heart fluttering around in her chest like a songbird in springtime.

"Trouble making up your mind?" he teased.

"Oh, shut it," she said lightly, smacking him on the arm. "There are lots of choices, okay?"

He snorted, rolling his eyes but leaning back in his chair with an air of contentedness around him. "If you're still in the mood for potato salad," he offered, impressively recalling something Hayley had mentioned in passing to him when they'd passed a grocery store on the way to the movies, "the Pothole has potato salad on the bun, with chili and cheese on top."

"The Pothole?" Hayley echoed, shaking her head with another laugh. "Okay," she said to their very patient server, "I'll take one of those." She reached for her complimentary glass of water and took a sip.

"And what kind of Dreamy Weenie would you like on that?"

Hayley spit out her water, she was so startled and taken aback by the question. "I beg your pardon?" she choked out.

The woman gave an amused little smirk, like she was used to that sort of response. "What sort of hot dog do you want?" she clarified. "We have beef franks, Polish sausage, Italian sausage, as well as a several vegan options."

"Oh," Hayley said, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks because hot dogs had definitely not been what she'd been thinking of the first time the server had asked. "I'll take Italian sausage, please."

"Perfect," the server said, jotting it down on her notepad. "Any sides?"

"No, I'm okay," Hayley said, shaking her head.

"Alrighty," the server said easily. "I'll take these orders back to the kitchen and be back with your food quick as I can."

"No hurry," Jackson called after her cheerfully. "Take your time." Then he turned to look at Hayley again, a wicked and mischievous grin on his lips. "You should see how red your face is," he said with a laugh. "And all it took was 'Dreamy Weenie'. Ha!"

"Oh, shut it," Hayley said again, feeling her cheeks heat up all over again.

Jackson just shook his head, his amusement obvious as he looked at her with what seemed to be some sort of odd combination of awe, adoration, and attraction. "I'm really glad you decided to go out with me," he said to her, sincerity ringing in every word. "Thank you."

Hayley fidgeted with her napkin. "Thank _you_ for asking me out," she said, blushing even more. "I'm having a really good time."

"Yeah?" Jackson asked, perking up with a goofy little smile.

"Yeah," Hayley said softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that Shadow Coven detour didn't actually happen in this chapter, sorry! I meant for it to, but then I was having so much fun with Hayley and Jackson's date that I got a bit carried away and before I knew it the five/six allotted pages for the chapter were all used up. I mean, I could keep going, but then I'd end up with a chapter that's too long for one update. So...yeah, sorry, I needed to cut it off right here. But the Shadow Coven and Sirena will be coming back in the next chapter, I promise! It'll end up ruining the end of the Jayley (Jackson & Hayley) date, but these things happen. XD


	87. Chapter 87

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 87, in which we learn something important about the Shadow Coven. It's information that will tie in with why Sirena will end up getting to live rather than get killed off. It's not intended to make her a sympathetic character, but it will give some insight into why she is the way she is. ;) Also, this chapter features a portion done from Sirena's perspective, which I think is actually a first for this story? Anyway, enjoy!

**Chapter 87**

" **Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change."**

* * *

Cami and I decided to take some of our research home to the Abattoir with us. Or rather, she and I were still hip-deep in old books and newspaper clipping when Klaus came back for us at sundown and stated in no uncertain terms that we were not spending the night in Kieran's crap-tastic apartment of weirdness and that if we wanted to keep going with our reading we should pack it up and bring it with us.

So we did, bringing everything we'd turned up on the Shadow Coven back with us and setting up shop in the little library rooms on the second story. Ezra and Rebekah had gone out to the Carousel Gardens Amusement Park for the day, Marcel and Sophie had taken Davina out on a shopping trip for new clothes, and Hayley was still out with Jackson, meaning that it was just me, Cami, Klaus, and Elijah.

And so we all sat together in the library, poring over old documents and yellowed newspapers, occasionally reading a paragraph of two out-loud.

And then I discovered an old battered diary of some paranormal investigator from the 80's, and what I read inside nearly made me fall out of my chair.

"Oh my God," I gasped, clenching the journal so tightly in my hands that my joints ached. "Oh my God."

"What is it?" Elijah asked, looking concerned as he picked up on my tumultuous emotions through our bond.

I waved him off distractedly, too engrossed in the diary entries to manage much more than a "Give me a minute" in response.

 _January 5_ _th_ , the top of one page read. _1983_.

_Encountered warlock today. Thought at first he was a rogue, but after searching the body I discovered the black sickle moon pendant that has recently become associated with the Shadow Coven. I also discovered a strange tattoo on the warlocks wrist, an inverse pentagram done in a strange shimmering ink the likes of which I have never encountered. I attempted to inspect the tattoo more closely, but touching it made me feel disoriented and ill, and filled with strange thoughts not my own. Rather than risk myself to whatever dark magic resided within that mark, I opted instead to burn the body and move on._

_January 16_ _th_ _, 1983_ , said the next entry.

_It seems the SC warlock from last week was not working alone; his partner tracked me down to my motel last night and attacked me in my sleep. Were I not such a light sleeper, it is entirely possible that I would not have survived to write this entry._

_I have salted and burned the body already, but before doing so discovered yet another of those unusual tattoos. As before, contact with it left me outs of sorts. I find myself wondering what magic in within the ink; does it increase their power somehow, or is it a simple identifier, like the black moon pendant? Further investigation will be required to find out. For now, however, I must leave this godsforsaken town before any more from the Coven track me down._

I hurriedly flipped through a couple more pages, skimming the writing for anything important. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ezra and Bekah coming into the room, evidently returned from their date, but I was too engrossed to do more than wave at them distractedly.

Eventually, after lightly reading almost a year's worth of entries, something caught my eye.

 _November 12_ _th_ _, 1983_ , said the heading of the page, and I couldn't help but notice that the handwriting was shakier, not quite as tidy. Like the person had either been in a hurry or too freaked out to worry about penmanship.

_I can't believe what I have learned in the last few weeks. It is almost too disturbing to put into words, and yet I find that I must document my findings, so that others who read this might glean some understanding into what it is about the Shadow Coven that places them beyond all other dark practitioners I have encountered._

_What I have learned came at great personal cost, and I am certain that I will not live long past the writing of this entry; they have done something to me, I believe, put some sort of curse on me. I can feel myself growing weaker by the day, fading. It is why I am writing this now. I feel that if I do not do it now, I may not find the will and energy to do so ever._

_They are using dark spirits. The restless spirits that are hostile and vicious, the ones that are not content with the ends they met, the ones with malice and intent to harm. Angry ghosts, you could call them._

_The Shadow Coven captures them, and puts them inside their operatives. They implant them using the shadow ink, using the darkest of magics to harness the spirit and place it inside the witch or warlock. Like a parasite. Like...a possession._

_The spirit does not, from what I've discovered, gain immediate control over the vessel. Rather, depending on the strength of the spirit, the host is slowly driven insane. The dark spirit warps their personality, changes their minds and hearts, poisons their souls. Until finally, one day, the original personality is almost lost entirely, too damaged by the invading spirit. Until the host becomes a vicious shadow of their former self._

_I find myself sickened by this, and yet also almost sympathetic for those who undergo the process. Additional testimony I have acquired seems to imply that not all those who are inducted into the Coven do so voluntarily; I encountered one woman who claims that her daughter was stolen away from her by the warlocks and implanted with a spirit at the age of sixteen. She says that they took her because she was young and powerful, that implanting her with a spirit at such a vulnerable age would make her more malleable, less inclined to fight it. She says that as long as the spirit does its job, nothing else matters to the Coven; they want powerful warlocks, and the ends justify the means. And it is true, the procedure gives the hosts more power, boosts their magic using the dark energy of the spirit within them...but the increase in power cannot possibly be worth the price._

_Nothing can possibly be worth that price._

"Oh my God," I said again, my hands shaking so badly that I actually dropped the journal. "Oh...God."

"Zorana?" Elijah said anxiously, reaching for me across the table. "What's-"

I bolted out of my seat and raced for the bathroom across the hall form the library. I barely managed to get to the toilet before I proceeded to throw up absolutely everything I'd eaten in the last ten hours. "Oh my God," I said yet again; it seemed to be the only thing I could say.

 _They are using dark spirits_ , the journal had read. _The Shadow Coven captures them, and puts them in their operatives._

I threw up again, this time nothing much more than bile and spit, because there was really nothing left in my stomach by then.

Elijah, of course, was at my side, holding my hair back from my face as the others crowded nervously in the doorway. "Darling, what's wrong?"

I took several deep shuddering breaths, trying to stop myself from gagging again.

_The host is driven insane._

_The host becomes a vicious shadow of their former self._

I gagged again, but clenched my teeth hard, refusing to dry heave any more. "The journal," I managed to gasp once the wave of nausea had receded. "It...It's..." I shuddered again and rested my cheek again the cool porcelain of the commode, feeling like I was on the world's worst roller-coaster.

Never in all my life had I ever envisioned magic so horrible. Putting dark spirits _inside_ of people? For the sake of p _ower?_ It blew my mind, and not at all in a good way. I was horrified. _Beyond_ horrified. I was appalled and revolted and outraged.

I could tell from the horrified gasps and sounds of alarm behind me that the others felt the same once they finished reading what I'd found in the journal. "This is...not what I expected to find when I said we should do some research," I said weakly, pushing away from the toilet and moving to stand.

Elijah put his hands on my waist to steady me, worry radiating down our bond. "Take it slow," he said in a low voice.

"Mm-hmm," I managed to reply, and then cursed as my knees gave out and I slumped back down onto the ground, only Elijah's grip keeping me from pitching forward and cracking my head on the toilet.

"Maybe just stay sitting for a while?" Rebekah offered from behind me, sounding like she was trying to be light-hearted despite the suddenly grave atmosphere around us all.

I considered debating the issue, but in the end I just nodded weakly.

"Do you really think that this is true?" Klaus asked, coming over and kneeling down on my other side with the journal in his hands. "Is this sort of magic really possible?"

"It would explain a lot," I croaked. "Why some of their operatives are so inhumanly powerful. How some of them can keep coming at you even though you've dished out enough damage to bring down a bull elephant."

"It would also account for how blatantly ax-crazy some of their higher ranked operatives are," Ezra added, his voice so carefully neutral that I had to wonder if he was thinking of Sirena. Was he wondering whether she had become so damaged and bloodthirsty because of the spirit she'd been implanted with? Was he wondering whether things might have been different between them if Sirena hadn't been possessed by a presumably angry spirit?

Klaus, I noticed, also picked up on Ezra's subdued behavior; I could tell by the way he looked away from the journal in his hands, the passages of information forgotten as he focused his gaze on my brother. "It's still not a good excuse for torturing innocent people," he said flatly.

Ezra have a small, sad smile. "I'm hardly innocent, Nik, but I appreciate the thought."

Klaus let out an annoyed sigh, passed the journal over to Elijah, and rose to his feet. For a moment he just looked at Ezra, his head titled slightly to one side in a mannerism that was clearly wolfish. Then he strode over to stand in front of my brother and reached out to roughly muss my brother's hair. "You didn't deserve it," Klaus said sternly. "And once we get our hands on Sirena, I swear to pay her back a thousandfold for what she did to you."

Ezra gave a slightly warmer smile then, clearly heartened by Klaus's words. "If you say so," he said.

"I say so," Klaus replied, slinging an arm around his shoulders and going with him back out into the library room. "Now, let's leave your sister to her vomit party and keep on with our reading, shall we?"

Ezra grumbled under his breath, but complied. "Fine, fine."

I watched them go, and kept on watching as Rebekah trailed after them, her gaze never leaving Ezra as she followed them back to the table where we'd been sorting through papers and books. Finally, I took a deep breath and heaved myself back to my feet.

Elijah had to wrap an arm around my waist, but even so I was immensely proud when I didn't immediately keel over and end up hugging the toilet again.

"Back to the table?" Elijah guessed, looking both amused and exasperated by my continued insistence to get up rather just sit on the bathroom floor and recuperate from my sudden spate of nausea.

"Back to the table," I confirmed, clinging to him in a way that would have embarrassed me a few months previously; as it was now, I was just grateful to have him there, supporting me.

We took it slowly, just a few steps at a time. I don't know what it was about learning the Shadow Coven's big dark secret that had completely fucked me up, but there was no denying it. I was disturbed by this latest discovery, so unnerved by this new bit of knowledge that it had made me physically ill.

I couldn't decide if that made the information incredibly unsettling, or just meant that I was more sensitive than I'd thought. Maybe a bit of both? _I guess it doesn't matter_ , I mused. I was feeling considerably more stable now, so I figured maybe it had just been the shock.

Even so, I was still trying to regain my bearings when suddenly Rebekah's phone went off.

She answered it with a puzzled look. "Hello? Oh, hey, Hayley, how's your date going-" Her puzzlement turned to alarm. "You what?!"

We all swiveled around to stare at her.

"What happened?" Klaus demanded.

Rebekah swallowed hard. "They got attacked by Sirena on their walk home."

Her words had me dangerously listing to the side as the world seemed to tilt around me. "What?! I exclaimed, at the exact same time as everyone else.

"Hang on," Rebekah said quickly to Hayley. "I'm putting you on speaker phone." She tapped a button on her phone. "Okay, go ahead."

"Okay, guys," Hayley said, sounding strained but calm, "don't freak out or anything because Jackson and I are both totally fine. Well, not _totally_ ," she amended. "I sprained my ankle and I think Jackson broke his wrist, but other than that-"

"Come home," Klaus said sharply, and I could hear the alpha power in his voice, brought out by his anxiety from the mother of his child being attacked by a spirit-possessed psycho. "Come back to the compound _right now_."

But Hayley hesitated. "Well, I _would_ ," she said uncertainly, "but Jackson's got Sirena knocked out and handcuffed to a lamppost, and we don't just want to leave her here. I mean, what if some traffic cop drives by and lets her loose?"

Of all the answers she could have given, I don't think any of us were expecting that.

"Handcuffed to a lamppost?" I repeated stupidly. And then my brain kicked back into gear. "You guys _beat_ her?"

"Yes. Well, Jackson did. I didn't do much since I'm the size of a whale, but _he_ managed to take her down."

"Klaus," I said, and I didn't need to say more.

"I'll drive," the Original hybrid replied, heading for the door.

"Zoe," Elijah said uncertainly, looking worried.

"We'll be fine," I promised, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "You stay here with Ez, Bekah, and Cami, okay? We'll call to check in with you in a little bit."

He pursed his lips unhappily, but nodded. "As you wish."

* * *

Sirena came awake feeling like she'd been buried in an avalanche and then clubbed over the head with a two-by-four for good measure.

 _Well, the two-by-four's sort of right at least_ , she thought blackly, recalling the moment when the werewolf from the bayou had snatched up a fallen tree limb and played baseball with her brain-cap.

A normal human, or even a normal witch, would have been killed by such a severe blow to the head. But she was far from normal, even by the Coven's standards. The spirit residing within her was one of the strongest ones ever captured by the Coven, so strong in fact that for years they hadn't dared to bestow it upon any member of the Coven for fear that it might destroy the host.

Then they had chosen Sirena, had called her powerful and indomitable, and by the time she'd realized that even her strength wasn't enough to resist the entity inside of her...it was already too late.

 _Kill_ , it hissed, even now when she was chained and trapped with a thick blindfold over her eyes and duct tape across her mouth; she had no idea where she was, other than hanging from a metal support beam, somewhere.

And yet still the spirit persisted. _Kill, maim, destroy. Make them pay, make them_ _ **suffer**_ _._

 _As soon as I get free_ , she said to the spirit, trying to placate it, because she hated when it became too enraged for her to control, too overwhelming in its wrath for her to rein in. Those moments always seemed to lead to her blacking out and then waking up covered in blood. The memories of what happened during those black-outs would filter into her mind over the course of the following days, but the recollections always felt hazy, like they belonged to someone else.

She hated it, that feeling like she wasn't in control of her own existence. She didn't care so much about the terrible things she did in those black-outs anymore, but she absolutely loathed that her action weren't her own. That she had no control, that she was _powerless_.

It was that very same feeling that had driven her to join the Coven in the first place, and part of her hated herself for ending up in yet another helpless situation. She couldn't win for the losing, it seemed.

"She's waking up," a familiar voice said suddenly, and the sound of that voice sent the spirit inside of her into a frenzy.

 _Kill, kill, kill_ , it snarled. _Tear her into shreds! Abomination!_

Sirena had never figured out why the ghost that shared her body hated the Storme twins so much, but there was no denying the entity's blood-lust; the hatred was so vast and powerful that it eclipsed even her own loathing for werewolves. From time to time she wondered if Reginald knew something about the spirit that she didn't, and that maybe that was why he'd hand-picked her from the Coven to assist. He'd chosen her from a group of the Coven's best operatives; surely it hadn't just been a whim.

"Good," another familiar voice said in answer to the first; it was, if she wasn't mistaken, the vampire-werewolf hybrid ( _abomination!_ ), Klaus Mikaelson; he sounded, she couldn't help but notice, a bit too sadistically gleeful at her apparent awakening. "Now the fun can begin."

Someone yanked the blindfold off, and Sirena blinked rapidly in the sudden light change, trying to bring her vision into focus.

 _Kill them_ , the demon hissed as her sight finally cleared and she saw Klaus Mikaelson and Zoe-fucking-Storme standing in front of her. _KILL THEM!_

Sirena sighed internally, mentally bracing herself for the physical agony that was presumably going to happen in her near future. _This is going to be a long night._


	88. Chapter 88

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in this chapter we have some more of "What to do with Sirena". It had the potential to be a really dark (and even disturbing chapter) but I like to think I side-stepped that. I guess we'll see whether you guys agree or not, but I aimed for a way to resolve the situation with Sirena without our band of heroes stooping to her level. Also I wanted to show more emphasis on how Ezra has moved on from where he was initially in regards to Sirena, how he's recovered mentally/emotionally from the trauma and all that. :)

**Chapter 88**

" **The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."**

* * *

Klaus and I were debating the merits of shock torture versus water boarding when Ezra and Rebekah arrived. Neither Klaus and I had been expecting them (we had, in fact, assumed that they would stay far, far away from the warehouse where we'd strung up Sirena because...well, Sirena), so we both stopped mid -sentence when they strode into the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I blurted out, staring at my brother in shock.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sirena asked, in that purring tone of hers that might have come across as seductive if it wasn't obvious how pissed off and exhausted she was. "He's here to join the party."

Rebekah gave the dark witch a dismissive once-over. "Not hardly," she said scathingly. "We just came to let them know not to kill you. The exciting torture session can continue just as soon as we've had our little pow-wow. But that's not really any of your concern, is it? No, why don't you just go back to keeping your mouth shut and dripping blood onto the floor."

Sirena snapped something obscene, but I was too distracted to notice what it was. "What do you mean we can't kill her?" I demanded, exchanging an irked look with Klaus, who looked equally annoyed by the interruption.

"We were reading some more of that journal you found earlier," Ezra told us, ignoring Sirena completely; from the way he didn't even glance at her, it was as if she wasn't even there. "Whoever wrote it mentioned something else about the spirits the Shadow Coven puts into its members-"

Sirena stiffened at his words like she'd been slapped. "How do you know about that?" she hissed.

"-and we wanted to come see if it applied in this situation," he finished, talking right over Sirena.

"Because if it _is_ true," Rebekah added, going over to stick the duct tape back over Sirena's mouth none-too-gently so that we could talk without further interruption, "then you really can't kill her. I mean, you _could_ ," she amended, "but I don't think you'll _want_ to."

Klaus just stared at them, and then turned back to me. "Did any of that make any sense to you?"

"None whatsoever," I said immediately, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Can we get some specifics, please?" I asked them.

"You explain," Rebekah said, waving a hand at Ezra. "Since you're the mumbo-jumbo expert."

"If by _mumbo-jumbo expert_ you mean _Wiccan practitioner_ ," he remarked dryly, "then sure." He cleared his throat and continued. "An entry in the journal mentioned that sometimes another warlock can do a power-sucking spell that binds them to the spirit inside of a Coven member."

"It's a bit like the spell Papa Tunde used on me when he put me in that stupid circle," Rebekah added, a shadow crossing her face at the remembered pain.

I blinked slowly, not getting it at first. Then it hit me, so hard that I had to latch onto Klaus's elbow to keep from falling over. "You think Reginald linked himself to Sirena's demon," I said weakly.

Ezra nodded, face grim. "We think it's possible. He is fond of drawing power from others, and he's the one who hired Sirena and the others from the Shadow Coven. If she really has been studying under him like we thought, it stands to reason that he would bind her energy to him, or at least the energy of the dark spirit inside of her."

"If that's the case, though," Klaus said with a frown, "why not just kill her and have done with it? If she's dead, the connection goes away."

"Not quite," I hedged.

Klaus arched an eyebrow. "Elaborate," he said sternly.

I sighed. "Well," I said hesitantly, "it's like this. Let's say that Reginald's drawing power not from Sirena, but from the spirit inhabiting her."

"Okay," Klaus said slowly, waiting for me to continue.

"What that means," I went on, "is that if we were to actually kill Sirena, all the power from the spirit possessing her will just transfer to my uncle; possibly even the spirit itself depending on the specifics of the binding spell." I took a moment to summon up the power racing through my blood and turned to peer at Sirena; sure enough, after a moment of intense focus and staring at what I could make out of her aura, I realized that they were right. Sirena, or at least the spirit inside of her, was tethered to Reginald. "Well, shit."

"So basically if we kill her," Ezra summarized, interpreting my reaction correctly as confirmation, "it'll just be empowering our uncle and making him even more powerful than he is already."

Klaus looked like he wanted to hit something; I felt much the same. The urge to tear out Sirena's throat was extremely strong; I wanted her to pay for what she'd done to my twin brother. She deserved to suffer for the evil she'd done; hell, she'd _earned_ that suffering.

But what was even more powerful than my hatred for Sirena was the fear of my uncle. The absolute last thing Ezra or I needed was for Reginald to be even more powerful than he was. He was already unstoppable; the thought of him reaching another level of strength beyond that was terrifying beyond belief.

Even so..."We can't just let her go," I said flatly. "She's a murderer."

Sirena somehow managed to bite down on the tape covering her mouth and spit it free with a rough laugh. "Aren't we all murderers here?" she asked, sounding bitterly amused.

I punched her across the jaw before I could stop myself, and the pain in my knuckles was worth it for the angry red welt that sprung up on Sirena's cheek almost immediately. "I don't recall anyone asking for _your_ opinion," I said icily, my inner wolf rising up and snarling in agreement.

"Your initial point _is_ valid," Klaus said curtly, eyeing Sirena like he was jealous I'd gotten in that punch rather than him. "We may not be able to put an end to her miserable traitorous life, but we also cannot afford to set her free. She is a threat to all of us."

"Good thing we found a solution, then," Rebekah said breezily, her voice sounding almost painfully cheerful, to the point where I knew without a doubt she was faking it for Ezra's sake. Ezra obviously knew it, too, you could see it in the way he slanted her affectionate looks of gratitude from time to time, but other than that he gave no sign that he noticed her valiant effort to be chipper.

"What solution?" I asked, yanking off another strip of tape from the roll and slapping it across Sirena's mouth right as she was about to lip off again.

"This," Ezra said, pulling out a sheet of paper from the pocket of his leather jacket. It showed a simplified sketch of a Key of Solomon seal, with an addition of two little stick figures inside of the figure, both holding swords. Underneath the picture was a couple paragraphs of what seemed to archaic Italian.

"It's a lovely doodle," I said solemnly with a nod. "Much better than the crap you did in kindergarten."

Ezra rolled his eyes. "It's a sealing spell," he explained. "If successful, it'll send the spirit into hibernation; it'll be so weak that it will be as if the connection to Reginald isn't even there. He certainly won't be able to siphon power from it anymore."

"Nifty," I said. "What's the catch?"

"What makes you think there's a catch?" Rebekah asked innocently.

I snorted. "Because I'm not a fucking idiot; there's _always_ a catch."

"Fair enough," she conceded. "The catch is that the spell requires hand-to-hand combat to fuel itself; something about kinetic energy and the spirit inside of her getting intimidated by the physical hurt you will presumably deliver to its vessel. I think."

Well, dishing out the hurt to Sirena certainly sounded appealing, but... "You _think_?"

"What?" Rebekah said defensively. "I'm brilliant, Zoe, but my Renaissance-era Italian is a tad rusty."

"But we're sure the spell will work," Ezra said firmly. "The only question is who will fight Sirena."

"You don't want to take care of her yourself?" Klaus asked, seeming a bit surprised.

Ezra didn't even stop to consider it. "Nah," he said easily. "I'm good."

Klaus narrowed his gaze suspiciously. "Really," he said, his tone disbelieving.

"Really," Ezra assured him, reaching out to wrap an arm around Rebekah's waist and pull her close. "I'm past the point of caring about vengeance against Sirena. I'm not going to let what she did to me haunt me for the rest of my existence." He looked away from Klaus to face Sirena, looking her right in the eyes. "I'm over it," he said, taking the care to speak slowly and deliberately, enunciating every word. And it was clear that he meant it, too; the sincerity practically radiated off of him.

Sirena went tense, her eyes narrowing and turning dark, as if the angry spirit within her was stirring and didn't like what it was hearing; one thing the spirit and the host had in common, it seemed, was a hatred for my brother. Although I couldn't help but wonder how much of the hate was really Sirena, or if she'd just been poisoned by the malice in the ghost. But even though I wondered, I couldn't bring myself to care one way or the other; Sirena had made her choices, all the way down the line. And those choices had led her here, to this bloody dead-end road.

The fact that she'd carved up my beloved twin brother probably also factored into my complete and total lack of sympathy, but I digress.

"So who wants to get into a magic circle and beat the shit out of our least favorite witch hag?" Rebekah asked cheerfully, leaning against Ezra.

"I do," Klaus and I said in unison, and then glared at each other.

"She tortured my best friend," Klaus said.

"Who happens to be _my_ brother," I said hotly. "Besides, you didn't even know us then!"

"That doesn't make any difference!" he snapped back.

"It does too make a difference!" I retorted. "I have the right as his twin, so I get dibs."

"You do not _get dibs_ ," Klaus said, sputtering angrily. "I have the right as...as his alpha!"

"Oh, please," I said disparagingly. "You've been dodging that title for _months_ , and _now_ you want to use it?"

"I notice you're not debating the veracity of the claim," Klaus returned haughtily, the barest hint of a smirk gracing his expression.

I flipped him off. "I am not debating your position as our alpha, no. I do, however, debate you using that to cheat me out of my pound of flesh. I will debate _that_ strenuously."

And on and on we went, our argument growing more heated and more ludicrous by the second.

"I find this oddly touching," Ezra remarked at one point, glancing between the two of us with an amused grin. "You two idiots are actually fighting over who gets to avenge my honor. How cute."

We both made faces at that, and resumed bickering as if he hadn't interrupted.

Finally, though, Rebekah seemed to decide that enough was enough and stepped in. "Why not just take turns?" she suggested. "If you're both so adamant to beat on her."

I paused mid-rant. "Take turns?" I repeated. "Is that...allowed?"

"I don't see why not," she said with a shrug. "There's even precedent. Right, sweetie?"

"Indeed there is," Ezra drawled, flipping over the paper in his hand and glancing down at the notes he'd scrawled onto the back. "Some sort of warrior-priest from Rome tag-teamed with a local sorcerer in Carthage to do a similar combat ritual. The exact date of this occurrence is sketchy at best and they might have been fighting an actual demon instead of just an angry spirit, but what little info I could dig up indicates that it _was_ successful."

Klaus smiled. "There, you see?" he said, patting me on the shoulder. "Now we can both have our fun."

I rolled my eyes, but acquiesced. "So long as I get the first strike."

"Absolutely not," he replied.

"Oh, bloody hell," Rebekah muttered, looking torn between exasperation and amusement. "Will you two just get on with it? Take much longer to get started and I'll just beat the snot out of her myself."

Klaus and I shut up. "Someone hurry up and draw the circle," I said at last, crossing my arms.

"And be quick about it," Klaus added, tapping one foot impatiently. "We've wasted enough time on this bitch already. Let's get this over with."

Ezra gave a crooked grin as he pulled out a small can of spray paint from an inner pocket of his jacket. "As you command, O Alpha," he said teasingly, and went to work on creating the magic circle for the combat spell as Rebekah double-checked the symbols for the activation of the spell.

Fifteen minutes later, after one last thorough inspection of the completed combat circle, it was time to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, we have the Klaus-Zoe vs Sirena grudge-match! Hooray! :D Please drop me a review and let me know how you liked the chapter! Also, in general, my PM box is always open if anyone ever needs to talk, about anything.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for stopping by! I really do appreciate you all reading this story for so long! We're almost to the end, sort of. The story will have a hundred chapters total when all's said and done, so we're only a couple months away from the finish line now! Provided I can power through my writer's block and actually churn out the last couple chapters, that is. ;) I've recently been spending a massibve chunk of my downtime playing the MMORPG Perfect World, which has, unsurprisingly, drastically cut into my writing time. XD But I'm starting to feel that writing itch again, so it shouldn't be too long before I knuckle down and get back to work. :D


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, my friends, to the long-awaited grudge match! Can I get a "Hell, yes!"?. ;D
> 
> Anyway, not much to say this time, other than sorry for posting late; as mentioned on tumblr, I had super duper family plans the day before I was supposed to do this update and didn't quite have the time or energy to post, hence the delay. Again, it's like 80% my own damn fault, because I went on a Teen Wolf fic binge the night before and got like two hours of sleep at the most, but...these things happen, right? XD Anyway, I'm posting now, so it's all good. ;) And it'll end up being a double update, actually, because I'll be posting Chapter 90 right after this, so yay for that!

**Chapter 89**

" _ **Revenge is more wild**_ **, less calculated...deeply personal. Retribution is a punishment that is morally right and fully deserved.** **"**

* * *

"At the conclusion of my ten count," Rebekah announced, her voice loud and echoing within the warehouse, "combat shall begin between the target, known as Sirena Espina of the Shadow Coven, and her opponents, Niklaus Mikaelson and Zorana Storme of...Team Hybrid."

Klaus and I exchanged amused looks. "Team Hybrid?" I repeated, arching an eyebrow.

Klaus gave a fluid shrug. "Not my idea," he replied, a faint smirk quirking up his lips. "I rather think your brother and my sister are conspiring to tease us."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, if Ezra's in a good enough mood to tease when we're about to pummel the snot out of the woman who tortured him...I guess that's a good thing."

Klaus shook his head, looking torn between exasperation and relief. "I suppose you're right," he remarked, and then returned his attention to Sirena, who Ezra was dragging over to the combat circle. Her hands were still bound, but the second she stepped into the circle and Ezra returned to Bekah, I would use an unlocking spell to free her from the chains we'd wrapped around her wrists.

"One," Rebekah said, and Ezra pushed Sirena a few steps closer to the circle even as she squirmed and tried to get out of his grip.

"Two," Bekah continued, her gaze darting over to me and her brother who stood waiting in the circle, our stances loose but ready. "Three."

Sirena made an odd lurching motion, apparently trying to throw Ezra off-balance and make some sort of escape attempt. But Ezra barely even reacted, and all Sirena got for her trouble was what had to be a painfully tight grip on her elbow as Ezra steered her relentlessly towards the combat circle.

"Four," Rebekah said, and I began to form the unlocking spell in my mind. "Five."

"I've been thinking," Klaus said suddenly, his tone conversational.

"Don't hurt yourself," I mumbled, as Rebekah's voice rang out saying "Six".

He elbowed me in the side. "Very funny," he said dryly.

"I know," I replied, then doubled back to his original statement. "What were you thinking about?"

"Seven," Rebekah announced, and Klaus answered with, "I was thinking that perhaps I'll allow you first strike after all."

"You'll allow it?" I gave a derisive snort. "Like you could actually stop me."

"Eight."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to be generous here," he said, his eyes tracking Sirena as Ezra finally hauled her over to the edge of the circle and pushed her in; she stumbled a bit from the force of his shove, but managed to regain a more stable footing once she crossed the outer rings of the circles.

"Nine."

"How about this," I offered. "I get the first hit, and you can have the finishing blow."

Klaus considered it for a moment, and then gave a slow smile. "Deal," he said.

"Ten," Rebekah declared, and I set loose the unlocking spell.

The chains around Sirena's wrists unraveled and clunked to the ground, and Sirena herself spent a moment just looking at us, her eyes still that creepy-ass deep black that reminded me of shark eyes. All killing intent, no soul.

I flexed my hands, anticipation thrumming through me. "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

She charged at me, and Klaus fell back a few paces to allow me my agreed-upon first hit. And sure enough, I dodged her initial charge, deftly side-stepping her assault and countering with a powerful right cross that sent her staggering.

"Bitch," she gasped, one hand going up to cup her jaw where already a bruise was starting to form. "You'll pay for that."

"Yeah...I don't think so." I jumped forward and aimed another punch towards her face.

She moved to block it, and I smiled, changing course at the last minute and slamming my boot into her ribs with a fast turning kick. "Bitch," she choked out again, scrambling to get away as she clutched at her side.

"Idiot," I returned easily. "Falling for a feint like that. I expected better from you. But I guess you're as weak and moronic as all the other Coven puppets after all. Pity," I said, clucking my tongue in false regret. "I was hoping for more of a challenge."

"Now, now," Klaus said, his tone light and mocking as he circled around and approached Sirena from the other side. "Don't hog all the fun for yourself, Zoe. It's very rude not to share."

"By all means," I said, taking a step back with a flourishing bow, "go ahead and take your turn."

He gave a decidedly predatory grin. "Don't mind if I do," he said silkily, and then flashed forward so quickly that he was a blur even to my heightened senses. One moment he was standing several feet away from Sirena, the next he had her in a fierce choke-hold as she sputtered and choked and clawed at his hands.

"Don't kill her," I reminded him severely.

"Relax, Zoe," he said with an eye-roll. "I know my own strength."

I made a noncommittal sound and gestured for him to release the witch. "She's turning blue, man, come on."

Klaus scowled but obeyed, letting go of Sirena and kicking her away from him so viciously that she went flying almost to the edge of the circle.

She struggled to her feet a moment later, limping slightly as she paced back towards us with murder in her eyes. "I'm going to kill you both," she growled, her eyes black and her voice a deep rasping sound that didn't match the usual sultry tones I'd come to associate with Sirena; was she really that pissed off, or was this the spirit talking? "I'm going to peel the flesh from your bones," she went on, malice radiating off of her in waves, "and laugh as the rats and roaches nibble on your bones."

"That's a very disturbing mental image," I commented, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Also extremely inaccurate," Klaus remarked. "Seeing as neither of us can die."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed. "That is very true."

Sirena let loose a piercing shriek and rushed at me, clawing at my face with her nails even as I slammed an elbow into her solar plexus. A hit as strong as the one I gave her should have had her collapsing to the ground, wheezing for air, but she barely even flinched; whatever entity was within her seemed to strengthen her somehow, blocking her from the pain.

So I lashed out with another kick, aiming for the backs of her knees and sending her crashing to the floor. She recovered faster than I anticipated, though, lurching back up and clipping me on the chin with an uppercut that I didn't manage to avoid all the way.

White spots danced across my vision as pain radiated along my jaw, and I took several fast steps away from Sirena in order to regain my bearings. She tried pursuing me, but Klaus blocked her, catching her hand as she tried to get in a jab at his throat and then tossing her back across the circle when she countered his block with a fierce overhand strike that narrowly missed smashing into his left eye.

"Zoe," Klaus said sharply, keeping all his attention focused on Sirena even as he stood in front of me protectively. "Are you alright?"

I licked my lip gingerly where the skin had split against my teeth from the impact of Sirena's attack and scowled as I spat out a mouthful of blood. "Oh, just great," I said sarcastically. "I love being punched in the face, thanks for asking."

He snorted, glancing over his shoulder with an appraising look before turning back towards our opponent. "It's just a flesh wound, you big baby. Stop whining."

I flipped him off. "Thanks for the concern, asshole."

"Anytime," he said cheerfully, and then zoomed forward with vampire peed to engage with Sirena again, leaving me to mutter curses under my breath as I rushed forward at a less freakish pace.

It seemed at first that Klaus had, unsurprisingly, the upper hand in the fight. But then Sirena finally seemed to remember that she was a witch; or maybe the spirit remembered that it was possessing a witch, I don't know. Either way, she suddenly muttered something under her breath and produced a hissing ball of pale green fire that danced and writhed in her hands. And before Klaus had a chance to react to this latest development, she launched it at him, hurling it right into his face with a vicious smile.

The Original hybrid lurched back with a pained curse and I wasted no time in fisting my hands in the back of his shirt and yanking him away from Sirena before she could fire off another attack.

"What did you do to him?" I snarled, whirling on her as Klaus scrubbed at his face with both hands, still working his way through a wide vocabulary of vile swearwords.

"Nothing much," she said smugly. "Don't worry, though," she added acidly, "I'll make sure to make the next hit count."

I growled, my inner wolf rising up within me. "There's not going to be a next hit," I snapped, lunging forward with lethal intent.

She summoned another fireball and tossed it at me; I summoned a gauntlet of lightning onto my right hand and smacked the fireball aside as if it had no more innate power than a Wiffle ball. Then I channeled that same electrical energy into just the tips of my fingers as I lunged forward and grabbed her around the throat.

I released the crackling energy and directed it at my enemy, and it obeyed eagerly, arcing from my skin to hers, shocking her and causing her to shudder and thrash in my grip. The charge dissipated after a moment, but I seized the opening it had provided and wasted no time in slamming my foot down hard on Sirena's left shin, feeling a grim flare of satisfaction as I heard the bone break with a loud cracking sound.

The bloodcurdling scream she gave was pretty satisfying, too.

I was about to go for a knockout attack when a shout from Klaus stopped me.

"Zoe Storme, don't you dare," he hollered. "You promised me the last hit, remember?"

I cursed under my breath. _I did, didn't I? Dammit._ "Get your ass over here, then," I snapped. "I'm done wasting time on this bitch. Let's finish this and move on with our lives."

He nodded brusquely, whatever damage done to him by Sirena's attack evidently already taken care of thanks to his hybrid healing powers. "Let's," he agreed, and then sprung across the combat circle to land the most spectacular superman punch I'd ever seen in my life.

Sirena's eyes rolled back in her head as she slumped to the ground, her body going completely limp. Half a second later, the magic circle around us lit up with a bright golden light, all the symbols and curves glowing as the magic of the combat seal activated and surrounded her.

I could feel the strength of that energy in the air as it spun in the air and descended upon the unconscious witch, and I could tell from the way Ezra reacted across the room, pulling Rebekah up against him and narrowing his eyes, that he felt the surge of power, too. Even Klaus felt it, stiffening and taking a step back as that golden energy came down and surged into Sirena, wrapping around her and sinking into her skin.

Sirena woke up briefly, then, her eyes flaring open as her back arched and her hands clenched in fists so tightly that her nails dug bloody furrows into the skin of her palms.

She let out a hoarse scream, the uncanny black of her eyes leeching away as an octagram tattoo suddenly began to form just above her heart, visible only because of the plunging sweetheart neckline of her shirt. "No," she moaned as the tattoo darkened and solidified, her eyes finally returning to their natural shade of blue. "My power..." Then her eyes went out of focus and her head lolled to the side as her injuries and the effect of the spell took their combined toll and she passed out again.

The magic of the sealing circle continued to simmer for a moment, and then vanished entirely, its purpose complete. The dark spirit within Sirena had been sealed, sent into a slumber so deep that Sirena might never be able to access its power again, rendering her virtually powerless, at least until she physically recovered from the damage we'd heaped on her.

Sirena Espina, _finally_ , was no longer a threat to us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will see us wrapping up the Dealing With Sirena arc and moving on to the unification of the supernatural community in NOLA. Yay!
> 
> In any case, pretty please drop me a review about your thoughts on this chapter; I adored this chapter, for a variety of reasons, but I'd like to hear what everyone thinks/feels about what happened. So...your thoughts?


	90. Chapter 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my friends! Happy Thanksgiving to everyone out there who celebrates it! I hope you're all doing well. :) Anyway, I meant to post this chapter yesterday when I got home but I was so tired from work that I pretty much just crashed at home with my dad, reading fic and eating good food and just being a lazy person in general, which actually felt so great. XD But sorry to all of you for the delay. ;) And thanks as always to all of you reading this, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed/left kudos/bookmarked/marked for later/whatever'd last time. You guys are the best!
> 
> Anyway, moving on to story stuff...
> 
> Okay, so this chapter wraps up our current Sirena arc and involves the twins deciding where to dump her off. What they ultimately decide on introduces another original character of mine, who will eventually co-star in the Inevitable spin-off I plan to do about Sirena. Which I haven't really mentioned before now, so let me take a moment to explain where I'm at in terms of this series in general.
> 
> First of all: the spin-off with Sirena. This spin-off won't be coming soon, since I intend to finish Inevitable first, do the five chapter Zolijah wedding story and the five chapter EzBekah wedding story, and then the larger sequel to Inevitable titled Legacies. (Yeah, guys, this has officially turned into a series for me. You may either rejoice or cower in alarm. Your choice. ;D). Since all of that is a lot of work in and of itself, the Sirena spin-off will be something I do on the side, sort of. Sirena will pop up in Legacies eventually, but she'll be very different from how she is now and that will eventually be explained in that aforementioned spin-off. For now, just make a little mental note of the new character being introduced in this chapter as "that guy who will eventually make a reappearance". XD
> 
> Anyway, I'll shut up now. Enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 90**

" **Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive."**

* * *

"So...you just want to drive her off somewhere and leave her?" Klaus said, disbelief plain in his tone.

"Not just _somewhere_ ," Ezra said, rolling his eyes. "Zoe and I know a guy in Baltimore. He helped patch me up after Sirena's first little torture session," he added. "He still owes us another favor, so I was planning to give him a call and ask him to be Sirena's...probation officer, I guess you could say. He can keep an eye on her and make sure she stays out of trouble."

"Like a custodian of sorts," Rebekah mused, looking thoughtful.

I was briefly thrown by my definition of 'custodian', which equated to 'janitor', but I quickly realized that she meant the literal definition, as in "one who has custody of...". "Exactly," I agreed. "He'll be like a cross between a probation officer and a bounty hunter: he'll keep a close watch on her as she heals and then keep her in line after she recovers."

"He's also extremely lethal," Ezra added, taking notice of Klaus's still-doubtful expression. "To the point where I'm not sure I could take him in a fight."

Klaus looked faintly surprised by that. "Impressive," he observed.

"He is," I agreed, although personally I found the fact that the man in question was capable of slaughtering his entire pack more on the level of disturbing than awe-inspiring. Particularly since he _had_ slaughtered his entire pack, and now lived as a lone wolf with no ties to _any_ pack. Granted, his pack had supposedly betrayed him in some terrible way, but still. It gave me pause.

Luckily, he did still owe me and my brother a favor, and I figured there was no one better to watch over a psycho like Sirena than a powerful werewolf who was possibly even more unstable. He wouldn't cut her any slack, at any rate, and he certainly wouldn't let his guard down around her once we explained the situation.

"I'll call him now," Ezra said, pulling out his phone and punching in a number, "but we'll still need someone to drive Sirena up to Baltimore; Sebastian never leaves Maryland."

"I'll do it," Rebekah volunteered.

Ezra's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he hesitated to hit the Call button on his phone. "You will?"

She shrugged. "I don't see any reason why it can't be me," she replied evenly. "It's not like I intend to butcher her on the drive up or anything."

"That's a suspiciously specific denial," I noted wryly, lips quirking into a smirk.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Don't give me that," she said chidingly. "If I intended to kill her, I'd have done it when you pulled her out of that circle all powerless and weak. I'm certainly not going to ruin the upholstery in my car by slitting her throat in transit. Talk about poor taste."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Unbelievable." Then I turned to my brother. "You okay with this?"

Ezra chewed on his lower lip for a moment, clearly conflicted. "I don't know if _okay_ is the word for it," he said slowly. "I don't like the idea, but more because it means I have to go without having Bekah around for a minimum of forty hours. And that's assuming she doesn't hit traffic going there or coming back, and that Bas doesn't stall when she hands off Sirena."

"Why not just go along with her then?" Klaus asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Ezra shook his head. "As much as I want to, it wouldn't be a good idea, not with our uncle coming into town. If he arrives and learns that I took off and left Zoe behind, there's no telling what he'd do."

"Probably decide that such an opening would be a perfect opportunity to try and abduct me," I theorized bitterly, fear and anger warring for dominance within me.

"Probably," Ezra agreed grimly, his grip on his phone tightening to the point that his knuckles turned white; I figured that if he clenched his hand any tighter, it was likely that he'd shatter the phone.

Klaus heaved a sigh. "Make the call," he told my brother. "Tell him that Rebekah will drive up with Sirena tomorrow, and that after that it's his responsibility to look after the miserable wench. It's high time she was out of our lives for good."

I couldn't agree more. "Make the call," I seconded.

Ezra hesitated, the nodded. "Okay," he said, stepping away for a moment to do so. "Hey, Bas," he said a moment later as the werewolf in Baltimore picked up. "It's Ezra Storme." A pause. "Yeah, I'm doing pretty good. Great, actually. You?" He snorted. "Yeah, asshole, I'm sure you are. With your personality, it's a wonder they don't run you out of the city on a rail. Must be your pretty face, I guess." He laughed at whatever Sebastian said response. "Bullshit!" He shook his head. "Unbelievable," he said with another chuckle, then sobered. "Look, man, I'm sorry to be that douche who only calls when he needs a favor, but..." He sighed. "Yeah, I know. But you know I wouldn't ask for anything unless it was important." Another pause. "Well, you might not be so agreeable once I tell you what the favor is."

I exchanged looks with Rebekah and Klaus as we all listened and waited; normally we'd be able to eavesdrop on the both ends of the call, but Sebastian was, I recalled, enormously paranoid about precisely such a thing and had installed some sort of anti-eavesdropping technology into all his communications devices. He was brilliant and devious and painfully suspicious of everyone and everything, so I suppose such a move wasn't terribly surprising.

It was, however, annoying. Especially when all three of us where so eager to hear the other side of Ezra's phone call.

"Mm-hmm," my twin was saying now. "Well, remember that witch from the Shadow Coven that I got crossed up with?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, the one who played me like a fiddle and strung me up like a cow in a meat-packing plant. Thank you, Bas, for such a flattering comparison. Way to be a pal." He rolled his eyes. "Well, as it so happens, my sister and I, ah, bumped into her again." A loud shout came out of the phone's earpiece, and Ezra actually leaned away from the device in his hand. "Keep your shirt on," he groused. "I'm fine. Zoe's fine. We're all fine." More shouting. "Would you _shut up_ for a minute? Damn, and I thought my sister was high-strung."

I flipped off my brother, ignoring Klaus and Bekah's laughter. "Thanks, Ez."

He ignored me, focused on his call. "Anyway," he said to Sebastian, "the two of us managed to subdue Sirena with some help from our new family." He hesitated. "No, I'll give you the full story some other time. Presuming we live through the next few weeks, of course." Another sigh. "No, Bas, I mean it. I don't have time to explain it all right now. All you need to know is that we've subdued Sirena and that she's not nearly as dangerous as she was. We need to dump her off somewhere away from where we are, preferably in the care of someone who's not only willing to keep an eye on her but also willing to keep her in line." He nodded. "Yeah, but you have to promise not to kill her unless she does anything insane, okay? We recently learned some new information about the Coven that might change everything, and this is our way of trying to give the bitch a second chance." An annoyed growl. "I know she doesn't deserve a second chance, asshole, but I'm trying to be the bigger person here, okay? So do me a solid and agree, so I can ship her off and never think of her again."

A long moment of silence on our end as Sebastian either contemplated Ezra's words or gave a long speech none of us but Ezra could hear. I figured it was more likely to be the former rather than the latter, given the way that Ezra was tapping one foot impatiently as he waited.

Finally, he gave a sigh of relief and smiled. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it. Seriously." Another eye-roll. "Yeah, yeah, I know." A chuckle. "Fine." He glanced over at us and gave a thumbs-up with his free hand before speaking again. "Okay. Yeah, my girlfriend's going to come drop her off with you sometime tomorrow." He wrinkled his nose. "Yes, Sebastian, I have a new girlfriend. No, she is not a raging psychopath like the last one. Yes, I am very much in love with her and will take it poorly if you so much as _think_ of making a pass at her."

He gave another little growl while the rest of us snickered at his discomfort. "I mean it, Bas. You make a move on my Bekah and I _will_ make you regret it." He relaxed a moment later and made a face. "You are such an ass," he grumbled. "Get a better sense of humor, jerk." He huffed out a short sigh. "Okay, fine, whatever. Look, where can she meet you for the hand off? We want this done as quick as possible so she can come home; we've got some other sketchy stuff going on down here and we're rocking the all-hands-on-deck mentality right now."

He tilted his head slightly as he listened to whatever Sebastian was saying in response. "1500 Barclay Street? Wasn't that the LeBow Brothers clothing factory?" he said skeptically, one eyebrow raised. "Didn't that place shut down in the 80's?" He rolled his eyes yet again. "No, I was only eight years old at the time; I only know about it because my father bought some coats from them and was bummed when they went under." He frowned a bit. "Didn't the city buy out the property and turn it into a design school or something anyway? Maybe not the best pace to meet?" He gave a shrug. "Okay, whatever. If you say they're closed for another round of renovation, I believe you. Not like I keep up on the mundane shit that happens in Baltimore; I've got enough crap going on as it is." He made a noncommittal sound. "I don't know if I'll be able to stop by for a visit anytime soon, but thanks for the offer. Yeah, okay. Uh-huh. You, too. Bye."

Ezra snapped his phone shut with a slight sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, he agreed. So now all that's left is a seventeen hour drive to Baltimore with an enemy witch riding shotgun and a seventeen hour drive back once you'd dumped her on Sebastian."

"He must be quite a good friend," Klaus observed. "This Sebastian of yours. There's not many who would agree to such an endeavor just because they were asked."

"Is that jealously I detect in your tone?" Ezra asked teasingly. "Relax, Nik, you're my best friend. Bas just happened to be the one who took in me and Zoe after Sirena worked me over. He helped me heal enough for us to leave the city."

"He took you in," Klaus said with a frown, "and yet _he_ owes _you_ a favor?"

Ezra gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's a long story," he said tiredly. "And not really something I want to go into right now. Let's just say it involved werewolf politics, a heap of betrayals, and Sebastian ending up a lone wolf."

I considered elaborating upon my brother's overly concise summary of what had gone down, but refrained. Explaining all of it wouldn't do much other than waste time that we already had precious little of. And even if I had wanted to give the full story, I didn't actually _know_ the full story. Sebastian had never shared all the details of his painful history; my brother and I only knew bits and pieces.

Of course, those bits and pieces had had enough of an impact on us that we'd given him our support as the heirs of the Volkov bloodline, which allowed him to live as a packless werewolf without facing retribution or scandalization from other packs in Philadelphia. Not that he'd have cared about the scandal of it, but at least with our backing he could avoid most of the pointless challenges that otherwise would have been issued against him.

Klaus pursed his lips as he regarded us for a moment, then relented with a sigh. "Very well," he said. "We'll discuss it another time, then. For now, let's take our prisoner and make sure she's secure for the car ride."

* * *

Rebekah spent the first six hours of the drive tense, waiting for Sirena to try something.

But she never did, and Rebekah spent the next four hours wondering why.

Then she decided that she didn't particularly care why or why not Sirena Espina did anything, and spent the next four hours blasting music at the highest possible volume on her car stereo, ignoring the way Sirena slid down in her eat with a mutinous expression, clearly disgruntled with her situation.

Since what Rebekah really wanted to do was rip Sirena's hair from her scalp and garrote her with it, she figured that playing her music too loudly was downright merciful by comparison, and nearly said something scathing to that effect, but bit her tongue at the last minute to stop the words from coming out.

 _Don't waste time with he_ r, she reminded herself. _She's not worth a second of your time. Just get her to Baltimore, and then get home to Ezra._

She finally reached the agreed-upon meeting place three and a half hours and two Red Bulls later, and pulled into a parking spot on the street, glancing up through the windshield at the apparently deserted school that had replaced the defunct clothing factory that had wasted away for decades.

She double-checked to make sure that Sirena's hands were still handcuffed together, a precaution Klaus had insisted upon before allowing Rebekah to go on this little hand-off, and then yanked Sirena out of the car. She shoved her towards the entrance, found it to be unlocked, and then pulled the skank after her as she headed for the cafeteria where Sebastian was supposed to be waiting.

She felt a brief flare of guilt since she was making Sirena walk on a broken leg that was poorly splinted, but the guilt quickly subsided a she recalled how damaged Ezra had been after the witch in the cuffs had worked him over. He'd been so hurt, inside and out, and recalling that made Rebekah's blood boil so badly it was physically painful to keep walking forward rather than turn around and rip the bitch's throat out.

"Well, well, well," a smooth voice said as she rounded the corner and entered the dimly lit cafeteria. "I can see why Ezra was so vehement in his warnings to not flirt with you. You are quite the beauty, aren't you?"

Rebekah narrowed her gaze as she took in the werewolf's appearance as he approached. Curly dark hair, pale gray eyes, and a dusting of stubble that helped give him a roguish air despite the fact that he was wearing a designer dress shirt and a pair of slacks that she was pretty sure she'd seen in a Neiman Marcus catalog. Incongruously, he was also wearing a pair of cowboy boots, but she decided not to comment on it. "Sebastian Walker, I presume."

"You presume correctly, my lady," he said, giving a sweeping half bow that was just shy of being openly mocking. "And this is, I assume, the skank whore Sirena that I've heard so much about." His cool gaze gave the witch in question an unflattering once-over that seemed to indicate that he viewed her as the sentient equivalent of pond scum. "I look forward to our time together," he said to Sirena, his words sharp and blatantly insincere. Then he seemed to notice her injured leg and he made a face. "Who the fuck splinted that, Ezra? Thought he had more triage skill than that."

"No, my brother Klaus did it," Rebekah corrected. "He loves Ezra like a brother, so he wasn't particularly inclined to be gentle with someone who's caused Ezra so much pain."

"You aren't inclined that way either, are you?" Sebastian fixed her in a knowing look. "I bet you didn't even want to bind her leg in the first place, did you?"

Rebekah flushed, but held her ground. "If you must know...no, I didn't want to. She carved Ezra's heart out of his chest the first time she captured him," she said hotly, "and you don't want to know what she did to him the second time. She's lucky to still be breathing. If not for Zoe and Ezra's mercy, she wouldn't be. My brother and I certainly wouldn't have spared her if the circumstances had been different."

Sebastian didn't reply right away, staring at her intently with that pale gray gaze that seemed to see everything yet give nothing away. "You really do love him," he remarked quietly at last.

She blinked at him, caught off-guard by this change of topic. "Ezra?" she said, frowning at him. "Of course I do."

Sebastian smiled, and the difference it made was incredible. It made him look boyish and sweet, rather than debonair and aloof. "Good," he said. "That's...really good. He deserves to be happy. Now," he went on, smile fading as he looked back at Sirena, "you, on the other hand...do not deserve to be happy, and yet I find myself in the position of needing to keep you alive and in relative comfort as per my agreement to Ezra Storme. Ironic, isn't it?" He smirked. "The very mutt you've hated so fiercely and degraded so unrepentantly is the only reason you're still alive."

Sirena sneered at him. "I'm not scared of you," she said haughtily. "Filthy werewolf."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. " As insults go," he informed her, "I find that severely lacking in creativity." He lashed out in a quick movement that Rebekah barely saw, jabbing his fingers into the side of her neck. "When you wake up," he said in a bored voice as Sirena crumpled to ground in an unmoving heap, "I expect to hear something a little more inventive."

Rebekah stared at him. "What did you do to her?"

Sebastian bent over and picked up Sirena, slinging her over his shoulder with a huff. "An old kyusho-jitsu trick," he replied. "I hit a pressure point," he elaborated, seeing her blank look. "It's an old martial arts style I picked up a few years ago. Comes in handy from time to time."

"I'm sure it does," Rebkeah remarked, impressed by the speed and ease with which he'd struck, downing Sirena in an instant. "It's no wonder Ezra and Zoe trust you to keep an eye on Sirena; with you watching her, she won't be able to get away with much of anything at all."

"That's the general idea," Sebastian agreed. "Now, hadn't you better get going? I got the impression that Ezra doesn't like being separated from you for more than ten minutes at a time. You being away for this long is probably driving him crazy."

She smiled a bit. "He worries. It's sweet."

Sebastian snorted. "Yeah, I guess." Shaking his head, he headed for the exit, Sirena still draped over his shoulder. "You tell Ezra that we're even now, yeah? I don't want to hear from him again until he's inviting me to your wedding or calling to explain how he got mixed up with the Mikaelsons." He paused mid-step as he heard her exhalation of surprise and turned around with a faint smirk on his face. "What, you thought I wouldn't figure out who you were? As far I know, there's only one vampire called 'Bekah' in New Orleans, and that's _Re_ bekah Mikaelson." He turned back around and resumed his quick stride for the door. "Have a safe drive home, Rebekah. Give your family my regards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I became really fond of Sebastian during the course of this chapter. I mean, when I was first thinking him up I already liked him, but the way he ended up here just really makes me happy for some reason. I also like how easily he seems to get along with Ezra, even though they aren't super best friends like Ezra is with Klaus. Anyway, this chapter was the only time Sebastian will show up in Inevitable, and this chapter also marks the last time we see Sirena, at least for a while. Both of them will return in the sequel(s), but for now that's it. Sebastian may or may not show up for Ezra's wedding, I haven't decided yet. XD
> 
> Anyway, pretty please drop a review if you've got a second or two to spare; I adore feedback of all varieties and hearing from you guys would make my holiday week even better than it is already. :) Alright, that's all I've got to say for now. Have a good weekend, everybody, and see you next time!


	91. Chapter 91

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just take a moment to say this: HOLY CRAP, PEOPLE. OVER NINETY CHAPTERS, WHAT THE HECK. HOW DID THIS EVEN HAPPEN?!
> 
> *ahem* Anyway, moving on...thank you so much for all your support all this time! Bonus thanks as always to everyone who reviewed/kudos'd/bookmarked/etc. You guys are amazing! Also, I'm super glad that you all liked Sebastian so much! And that you're all excited for the upcoming wedding ficlets. ;D
> 
> In any case, this chapter focuses on the group's attempts to unify New Orleans! Well, the supernatural side of New Orleans at any rate, with some humans who are in the know thrown in, because regular humans are important, too. XD Anyway, this chapter has a lot of talking. And by talking, I mean everyone giving little speeches about why everyone needs to come together for the sake of peace. Honestly, it reads a bit like a political convention at times, which I guess makes sense because it sort of is that type of situation, with all the different groups coming together. The only downside to this is that there are some REALLY long paragraphs at various points, because that's how speeches work. XD
> 
> Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you get on with it. Enjoy!

**Chapter 91**

" **Peace is a journey of a thousand miles, and each step must be taken one at a time."**

* * *

"Do we have a plan?" Elijah asked as we drove to the Generations Hall for what was going to be our first attempt to unify the various factions of the city.

"Of course not," I replied cheerfully. "Plans are for brilliant people. We're just moderately clever."

Elijah rolled his eyes, absentmindedly flipping on the turn signal as we moved from Convention Center Boulevard to North Diamond Street. "Oh, good," he said sarcastically. "I do so _love_ to walk into a complicated situation unprepared."

I flashed him a cheeky grin and fiddled with the radio dials. "Aw, come on, baby," I said coaxingly. "It's not like there's any _serious_ danger. This little powwow is mostly going to consist of our own allies, after all. More or less." There would be a handful of unknowns, people none of us were overly knowledgeable about, but the risks were still pretty low.

It helped, of course, that we'd completely neglected to invite the remaining members of the New Orleans coven. Since we'd all pretty much agreed that those few remaining witches were bat-shit crazy and not to be trusted, there hadn't even been much of a need to discuss it, really.

Elijah, meanwhile, made a noncommittal sound. "Even so, there will be enough people there who we are largely unfamiliar with. We shouldn't let our guard down. Our enemies are still out there."

"I am," I said, a little irritably, "well aware of that. My psychotic uncle is one of those enemies, remember? I'm hardly going to forget that he'll be here soon to kidnap and torture me and my brother."

Elijah's stern expression softened and he reached over to rest one hand lightly on my knee. "I know, Zorana," he said gently. "I know." He hesitated, then continued speaking. "It's why I'm so worried," he admitted. "The very thought of one such as him so much as touching you..." He shook his head. "Zoe, I cannot bear it. I need you to be safe."

"And I need our family safe," I replied, drawing on my mate's strength to center myself and wrap myself in a blanket of calm. "You, me, Ezra, Rebekah, Klaus, and Cami. Davina, Hayley, and Jackson. Even Marcel and Sophie. I want us _all_ safe, Elijah. And that will never happen until we stabilize the supernatural community as a whole. Until we stop fighting each other over stupid blood feuds and start working together for the greater good."

Elijah lapsed into a thoughtful silence again, the only sound in the car the chorus of Cowboy Casanova as we neared our destination. "It's a lovely idea," he said at last. "I just don't know if accomplishing it will be easy."

"Nothing that's really worth it ever is," I remarked with a wry smile. "And I'm not going to stop until that idea becomes a reality. Until the day comes when I can wake up in bed beside you and go downstairs to eat breakfast with our family and not need to worry about our enemies coming after us when we're not expecting it." I nodded to myself. "I want a happy ending," I said decisively.

Elijah gave me that warm little smile as he pulled into a parking spot on the street. "Well," he said affectionately, "far be it from me to try and keep you from getting what you want." His smile widened. "A happy ending it shall be, then."

I grinned and kissed him. "I really love you," I told him.

* * *

Ezra stared at the crowd in the meeting hall with something akin to apprehension in his eyes. "Remind me how many people we invited to this meeting again?" he asked Rebekah under his breath.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, each of us invited five other people. So that's five from you, five from me, five from Nik, five from your sister, five from Elijah, five from Marcel, five from Sophie, five from-"

"Son of a bitch," Ezra huffed out, crossing his arms and surveying the room with increasing discomfort. "All together that's, what, sixty people? Plus us as the original twelve?"

"At least that many," Rebekah agreed. "Personally, I think we may have attracted some gatecrashers as well, but...oh well. These things happen."

"No one from the coven, right?" Ezra asked, narrowing his eyes as he peered into the crowd. "Because they were very definitely not invited."

"I haven't seen anyone who's a serious threat to us," Rebekah assured him. "No Monique, no Shadow Coven operatives, no one else too terribly out of place."

Ezra let loose the tense breath he'd been holding and nodded. "Okay," he said. "So there's that, at least."

Rebekah put a hand to her mouth to stifle her snicker of amusement. "You really aren't fond of large gatherings, are you?"

"Not at all," Ezra said honestly, reaching out and twining his hand with hers without any apparent conscious thought to the movement. "I'd much rather be with just a small group of people I trust than buried in a throng of people I know nothing about. I don't _dislike_ large get-togethers, exactly," he remarked, "I just don't usually see the appeal."

"Well," Rebekah replied, "at least it's for a good cause this time. That should help you deal with any discomfort."

"It does," Ezra admitted. "I don't know if we'll actually accomplish anything today, but at least we're _trying_ to bring everyone together. That counts for something, in my book."

"In my book, too," Rebekah said, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning into him. "Now, let's go make sure no one's trying to kill each other yet. It would be such a pity we everyone came all this way to discuss peace only for bloodshed to break out."

"Fair point," Ezra acknowledged, then made a pained face as he noticed a heated conversation a few hundred feet away. "And wouldn't you know, there's one of Marcel's guys harassing one of Jackson's wolves. There's a shock."

Rebekah gave a slight sigh. "Alright, well, let's go see what we can do about getting them to play nice, shall we?"

Ezra snorted. "Hooray," he said sarcastically. "Good times."

* * *

It took us three hours to bring everyone together and get them sit down at the tables we'd set up in the hall, and another half an hour after that to get everyone to shut up long enough for us to speak to them from the podium we'd set up.

We took turns speaking, those of us who felt like we needed to say something to those who'd assembled before us. Marcel spoke first, addressing mostly the vampires in attendance.

"My brothers and sisters of the night," he told them, his expression grave. "Too long have we been divided, not just among ourselves but also in this entire community. We believed ourselves to be better than the witches and the wolves. More civilized, more powerful." He paused as if marshaling his thoughts, then continued. "My friends, we were _wrong_. It's taken me a long time to realize it, but finally I have seen the truth. We do nothing but cause harm to ourselves and others with our arrogant and divisive ways. For generations, we have fought and bled and suffered, all for ideals that hold no truth in them. We are no better than the others. We are all equal, and always have been. The time has come," he said, his voice gaining in strength and volume, "for us to cast aside our petty squabbles and feuds. The time has come for us to stop tearing each other down and apart and _stand together_ instead. My brothers and sisters," he told them, "I can't even begin to count the ways in which I've failed you. I have made promises to you that I was unable to keep. But allow me this last promise: if you join us now in helping to bring peace to our city, you will not regret it." He nodded to the crowd. "Thank you," he finished, stepping away from the microphone and returning to his seat amid the rounds of applause that various groups were giving to him. Some of the werewolves from the bayou, I noticed, didn't applaud, but wore thoughtful expressions, as if they were considering Marcel's words.

Sophie spoke next, going up to the microphone together with Davina.

"Hello, everyone," Sophie said, her voice low and hesitant. "First of all, thank you for coming here today. I know that there are many of us, both here in this room and in the city as a whole, who are unsure of whether peace is even something that can happen." She gave a weak smile. "It seems like a pipe dream, doesn't it? A cause that's lost before it's even begun. But my friends and I are here today," she went on, swallowing hard, "to tell you that it _is_ possible. Peace in our city should not just be a fairy-tale for us to tell our children when we put them to bed at night. It should be _real_. And it's something we not only want, but _need_. My family," she said, her voice cracking, "has lived in this city for generations. We have practiced ancestral witchcraft for as long as anyone can remember, and the life of this city is our heart's blood. And yet," she went on, "we have created pain within this city of ours. We have fought, and spilled blood. Sometimes," she added, her expression tight and unhappy as she gestured to Davina standing beside her, "even the blood of innocents." Murmurs broke out in the crowd, and people began to shift restlessly, but Sophie soldiered on. "This must stop," she declared, determination radiating off of her in waves. "We must set aside our differences and stand together, as one united force against those who would seek to harm those we love. We have all done things to protect our loved ones, our families. But the time has come for us to realize," she said, "that we are all _one_ family. We are the people of New Orleans, and we must unite!"

Another round of applause and cheers, although somewhat more subdued; not surprising, since very few of the people here actually knew Sophie personally. Since we'd deliberately shafted the New Orleans coven in regards to invitations, there were no real witches in attendance other than me, my brother and Davina, along with Sophie herself. And probably some gatecrashers, but as long as no one started any trouble I was willing to not notice that they were there.

Davina politely waited for the hubbub to die down before taking Sophie's place at the microphone. "My name is Davina Claire," she said to the room. "And I am here to tell you that the way we fight against each other has to stop." She took a deep breath, her lips quivering. "Some of us..." She closed her eyes as if in pain before continuing. "Some of us have lost everything to the fighting. We've lost our families, our friends. And I...I lost my life. And I don't mean that in a metaphorical sense," she went on. "I did lose my family, and I've lost count of how many of my friends have died by this point. But I have paid the ultimate price for the war between our factions. I _died_ ," she said, her voice shaking. "I died because of the hate we hold for each other. Hate," she continued, "that comes from stupid arguments that are too petty and outdated for most of us to even remember. We need to let go of the hate. We need to stop fighting and killing each other for stupid reasons. We need to let it go." She cleared her throat. "Let me give you an example," she said, pointing to Sophie. "Sophie and I didn't always get along as nicely as we are today," she told them. "Truth be told, there are still days where I can't stand to look at her because of what she's done to me and the people I care about. But," she went on, "I am working hard to let go of all of that. It's a struggle, I'll admit that. It's something I have to deal with every _single_ day. Peace," she concluded, "is not going to be easy. It's not. It's not even going to be comfortable for most of us at first. We're going to need to work at it, to keep on working on it even when we want to quit. Because peace? Peace is worth it, you guys. There is _nothing_ else I can think of that's so important." She swiped at the tears that had been slowly trickling down her cheeks. "Thanks."

I cheered hard for Davina. I knew it hadn't been easy for her, to get up there and speak in front of all those strangers. To tell her story and use it to convince them that what we were trying to do was important and necessary. "Good job, sweetie," I said to her when she returned to her seat. "I'm really proud of you."

"So am I," Camile said with a warm smile, reaching out to squeeze Davina's hand gently. "That was great, Davina."

Davina gave us a watery smile, pride and gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks you," she said softly, and her smile widened as Marcel leaned over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a strong hug.

Kieran spoke next. "Many of you know who I am," he said to the assembled crowd. "I've lived in this city my entire life, and been a leading member of the human faction of this city for decades. This city," he told them, "has changed. It has changed and that change is not in the right direction. We are threatening and killing each other, and for what? For territory? For petty grudges?" He shook his head. "This needs to end," he said severely. "We've been hurting each other for too long. I am a man of God, but it is not as a priest that I tell you to lay down your arms and pray for peace. It is as a man whose nephew was murdered by a witch. As a man who has fought tooth and nail to protect the innocents of this city from the violence and bloodshed that has so defined it in these last years. There was a time," he went on, "when I considered those of us who are not fully human to be monsters. I believed that vampires and werewolves and witches were abominations, not fit to walk this earth. I'm sure many of you feel the same about your rival groups. Vampires hate werewolves, and vice versa. Witches has felt persecuted for centuries at the hands of all parties. And humans have fallen prey to all of these groups and more for as along as any of us can remember. There is no group here that has not at one point felt belittled or slighted by another." He paused for a moment to catch his breath and then continued speaking. "My nephew Sean was murdered by witches, yet I stand here today with witches at my side." He gestured to Davina and Sophie. "I used to consider vampires to be nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters with no remorse, but I have learned differently. They are people, just as we are. They have hopes and fears, just like we do. They have families and friends, and just like us they are willing to do anything it takes to keep those loved ones safe. The werewolves are the same," he said, "and the witches are, too. We are all simply _people_. And it's long past time we realized that. Thank you," he finished, stepping back and away.

I applauded Kieran's speech even as I added up a tally in my head of who had spoken so far and who had yet to take a turn. Marcel had spoken for the vampires, Sophie and Davina for the witches, and Kieran for the humans. That left Jackson and Hayley for the werewolves, and then the closing speeches.

Sure enough, Jackson stood up next, carefully pulling Hayley's chair out for her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they proceeded at a sedate pace to the microphone.

"Hi, everybody," Hayley said, giving a nervous little wave. "This sort of gig isn't really my thing, but considering what's at stake, I figured I had to give it a shot." She took a deep breath, seeming to take strength from the encouraging smile Jackson was giving her. "As you can all see," she said with a wry smile as she touched her distended belly, "I am currently very pregnant. My daughter," she went on, "is due to be born in just under a month. I don't want her to be born into a city torn apart by fighting. I don't want her to be born into a world where I need to be worried about taking her to the park for a play date. I don't want to lay awake at night, terrified of someone coming to attack us because of the grudges others hold against her for the actions of her parents." She swallowed hard. "I want her to grow up in a city where she can sleep and play in peace, where she can grow up and see all of us working together rather than tearing at each others' throats." She looked out over the crowd, her mouth set in a determined line. "Our children deserve to grow up without needing to be afraid. They deserve peace. Thank you." She took a couple waddling steps back from the microphone and rested her hands lightly on her stomach as she watched Jackson step up to the position she'd just vacated.

"Well," he said with a slight laugh, "it's going to be hard for me to top a speech like that. Thanks, Hayley."

A low rumble of chuckles resonated through the room. Jackson was good, I'd noticed, at putting people at ease. His easy-going personality made them relax around him, feel more comfortable. He was, I knew, almost definitely aware of his own charisma and dialing it up a bit to make the crowd more accepting of what we were trying to convince them of.

"Anyway," Jackson continued, "there is nothing I can say here today that my friends haven't already said. Our city needs peace. I know that, you know that. We all know that. We all know that we're being stupid by hanging tight to all these old grudges. And yet we're all so scared to let go of those old hatreds. Why? Because we don't know what the futures holds? That's life, guys. And I can tell you right now, I would rather face the future with all of us on the same side than on my own with no one to back me up. My pack," he went on, his tone slightly more serious now, "has been persecuted at the hands of the vampires in this city for years now. And we were cursed by the witches to be trapped in our wolf forms indefinitely. If there was ever a pack of wolves that has every right to loathe and mistrust the other groups in this city, it is me and mine. And yet," he said, "here I am tonight, only able to even talk to you all because of an alliance between people who I would have never expected to come together for any reason. I am here with you today because of an alliance between the Mikaelsons, the Stormes, and two witches who knew that what their coven was doing was wrong. It's a team-up between vampires and werewolves and witches, and I couldn't be more proud to call them my friends and allies to my pack. I hope that all of you here today can see what I see when I look at all of us: a city of people who just want to live our lives. And we'll never be able to live our lives to the fullest until we put the past behind us and agree to peace. Thank you."

The applause for Jackson and Hayley was loud and raucous on account of the bayou werewolves in attendance, and the cheers didn't die down until well after Jackson escorted Hayley back to her seat and took his own place beside her.

I was more than content to let everyone keep on with their cheering and whistling and clapping. Hell, I would have been happy enough to let them keep right on with it indefinitely, mostly because I was next up to talk and I suddenly found myself drowning in nerves and feeling like I was about to go skydiving with no parachute.

And yet all too soon the cheering died down and it was my turn to address the waiting crowd.

"I don't know why I agreed to this," I mumbled under my breath, feeling an awful lot like I was about to throw up.

"You'll be fine, darling," Elijah said encouragingly. "Just speak from the heart as you usually do, and everything will be fine."

"You've got this," Ezra agreed, flashing me a thumbs-up. "Go get 'em, Z."

"I think I'm going to puke," I muttered, but I stood up anyway and made my way to the microphone, trying to swallow down my anxiety and push through the sickening stage fright.

I reached the microphone after a ten step walk that felt like an eternity, and swallowed nervously. I took a couple deep breaths, and began. "My name is Zoe Storme," I said, fighting to keep my voice even. "I was born March 27th, 1977. My father was a werewolf from Belrus named Lucas Volkov. My mother was a witch named Rina Storme. My brother and I are proud to claim both sides of our mixed heritage. We have witch blood in us _and_ wolf blood in us. We are hybrids, and while that sets up apart from just about everyone else, we have found a place that accepts us. Here," I said, pointing to the floor. "In this city. In New Orleans alone have we found a place that accepts for who and what we are. In no other town or city have we found a place to belong. Only here." I swallowed hard. "All my life, I have lived in fear of people learning of my mixed heritage. I was afraid of vampires who would hate my werewolf blood and be envious of the magic of my witch heritage. I was afraid of other werewolves, who would look down on me for supposedly disgracing my Volkov lineage with the taint of my witch blood. I was afraid of other witches, too, who view me and my brother as lesser because of our wolf natures. All our lives, we have faced ridicule and scorn for who and what we are, and sometimes even outright hostility. Until we came here." I nodded, both to myself and to them. "When my brother and I first came to this city, we were running away. And we expected nothing more or less than what we'd seen and experienced in all the other places we've passed through during our lives. But what we got when we came here was so much more." I swallowed hard. "What we found when we came here was acceptance. Not right away," I acknowledged, "because nothing good ever comes easily or right away. But we found in this city something we'd been missing for years, something we'd been craving. We found a _home_. A family." I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I fell in love here," I told the crowd. "I made friends here. I have a new family because I came here. And I am here talking to all of you today," I said, "because I want my family to be happy. I want us to have peace. I want it so badly that I am standing in front of over sixty people to ask you to help me achieve that peace. That's not something to be taken lightly, either," I added shakily, "because public speaking is something I rank as only slightly more enjoyable than paying taxes or dealing with a stopped up toilet."

They laughed, both those in the crowd and my friend and family behind me. It eased the knot in my gut a little, just enough so that the churning nausea receded a bit.

"I want New Orleans to have peace," I announced. "I want our groups to stop fighting each other and work together for a better future. And I know all of you want a better future, too, so please help us bring unity to this city. We've been divided too long. Now is the time to move forward, together in purpose. Thank you."

I hustled away from the microphone as fast as my trembling legs could carry me, all but collapsing back into my seat with a heavy sigh of relief. Thankfully, my turn was over and done with.

Now all that was left was for Klaus to give the closing speech.

The Original hybrid stood up and went to the microphone, his expression unreadable. "You are all aware of who I am," he remarked, and the dark murmurs in the crowd backed up his statement. "My family and I helped build this city into what it is today, and much like with Zoe and her brother it is one of the few places that we have truly considered home during the course of our exceptionally long lives. My family," he went on, "is admittedly responsible for some of the bloodshed that has occurred here over the years, and for that I am more sorry than words can express. Some actions I do not regret, but some I cannot ever atone for, and for all the harm I have done to this city I am truly sorry. But," he continued, "it is time for us to let go of our old hatreds. All of our hate all these years has brought us only more pain and suffering. And I, for one, have had enough pain and suffering to last me several more lifetimes. I say now that we put an end to it. We must set aside our differences and strive for a better future, for ourselves and those we care about. I cannot force you to agree to peace," he said to them. "And to try to do so would go against the very ideals to which I wish us all to aspire. So all I can do is humbly ask that you consider everything that has been said here today. We will be reconvening here tomorrow, and we will be discussing and arranging a treaty among the various factions within the city. We will also be taking votes in order to determine who will sit upon the leading council of these factions. The time of kings and queens and tyrants is over; we must all of us move on from our cravings to rule above each other. Our current plan," he explained, "is to have anywhere from eight to ten representatives form the various factions form a council of leadership for the supernatural community within this city. When we reconvene tomorrow morning, we shall listen to nominations and then cast our votes. Between now and then, give thought to all that had been said today. And give thought to the future you want for yourselves and your families. The time for change," he concluded, "is now. Help us bring peace to this city."

He stepped away from the microphone, then froze in place as everyone in the room broke into applause. The look of surprise on his face was almost comical; it was clear that whatever response he'd been expecting from the crowd, that wasn't it at all.

"Good job, Nik," Rebekah said as he rejoined us, the assembled guests breaking up into smaller groups as they departed the hall. "They actually seemed to like your speech."

Klaus rolled his eyes, but the small proud smile on his face didn't go away. "Liking my words is good," he replied. "Being moved to action by them is better." He glanced over at Elijah. "What are our odds of success here, brother?"

Elijah made a see-sawing motion with his hand. "Difficult to say this early," he observed. "The speeches we gave today certainly had an impact. It's just a matter of whether or not it's a strong enough impact to overcome years of rivalry and hate."

I slouched back in my chair with a sigh. "I guess we'll find out tomorrow, huh?"

"Tomorrow," Elijah agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this chapter was long. And long-winded. I'd say sorry about that, but we all know I'm not actually sorry. XD Anyway, the next chapter will involve the conclusion of the "peace summit", and then the next few chapters will involve Hope's birth and Reginald's long-awaited appearance. I still don;t know if this story will be wrapped up by the hundred chapter mark or go on a couple chapters past that, but I can safely say that we're coming up on the end of things pretty soon. ;)
> 
> In other news, I have also started a Teen Wolf fanfiction! It's called Echoes of Remembrance, and you can find it both here and on ffnet if you're interested in checking it out. It's going to deal with the Wild Hunt and how they're erasing people/have erased people in the past, and the main pairing will be an eventual Peter/OC thing. So...please come check it out, because you love me? *puppy dog eyes* Pretty please? :)
> 
> Also, I doubt anyone cares, but I wanted to share this for amusement value: I'm posting this on my lunch break at work! Yay for remembering my laptop and forgetting my lunch! XD


	92. Chapter 92

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the first portion of this chapter is probably going to feel pretty rushed in terms of how the peace convention comes to a close. I intended to have it be longer, with more talking and discussing and debating and so on, but then I realized that while this part is important, we need to get back to the main plot of the story, involving Hayley's pregnancy and good ol' Uncle Storme who will be making his appearance pretty soon. I know it's a bit strange, keeping Reginald, the Big Bad, in the background until the end of the story, but that's how it goes sometimes, I guess. XD
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone who's reading this; you've been following this story for so long! You're all so amazing! Bonus thanks to everyone who's reviewed/kudos'd/bookmarked/etc. And huge thanks as well to DayStorm, a fellow fic writer who is super awesome and supportive and just a swell person in general. :D If anyone here hasn't checked out her story A Red Sun Rises on ffnet (I'm not sure if if's here on ao3 or not), you totally should; it's an awesome Elijah/OC fic that's she's been working on re-writing from an older version. 
> 
> Also, just as a reminder to everyone out there (or a head's up to any new readers), if you're interested in checking out some of my non-fanfiction work, I do have published werewolf stories available on Amazon; they're my Tales of Camellia series, and I would love you all for forever if you checked them out. The first one's called Love & Trust, and the second one is called Following the Road Home. I'm still carving a place for myself in the world of self-published authors, so any support would be wonderful! ;)
> 
> Anyway, this chapter might come across as kind of hurried and/or disjointed; I had a hard time writing it because I took a break to work on my Tales of Camellia series right when I was in the middle of writing this. I was hoping that taking a breather from Inevitable would let me come back to it and work through the writer's block I was having with this chapter at the time, and it sort of worked? It's still not quite how I wanted it, but I've decided to move on. XD
> 
> In any case, this chapter contains the end of the peace summit, and then a huge family meeting type thing where Cami basically sits down everyone for some (much needed) family therapy. :D

**Chapter 92**

_" **Healing doesn't mean the damage never existed** **. It means the damage no longer controls your life.**_ **"**

* * *

I woke up the next morning with a strong desire to go right back to bed. And it wasn't just because I was dreading going back to the Generations Meeting Hall to see what the supernatural population of New Orleans had decided to do. No, I had an intense feeling of foreboding that had little to do with my anxiety regarding the outcome of our little peace moot.

I couldn't put my finger on the source of my unease, but I theorized that the hectic and disturbing nightmares I'd had during the night more than likely had something to do with it. Once fully awake, I couldn't for the life of me recall any specific details from those dreams; there were little snatches I could remember, but nothing long or in-focus. I could remember a hazy glimpse of a cemetery, and something about a baby; Hayley and Klaus's daughter, I thought, but there was something not right with the picture from my dreams. I could vaguely recall a sense of fear and urgency, as if something was wrong with that child, or as if someone had taken her. It frightened me, for all that it was a dream and had no apparent basis in reality.

 _Calm down, Zoe_ , I told myself sternly. _You're just feeling stressed and worried. You know how dreams work, it's your brain chewing on all your worries and then spitting out a mish-mashed jumble of nonsense. There's no need to be scared of some silly nightmares._

Elijah stirred as I rolled out of bed, turning over and peering at me through the early morning gloom in our room. "Everything all right, dear?"

I hesitated, then managed a small smile. "Yeah, **дорог ой**. I'm good."

He eyed me doubtfully, but relented, a slight smile kicking up the corners of his mouth at my use of a Russian endearment. Then he glanced at the bedside clock and groaned. "It can't be time to get up already."

My smile widened at his sulky tone. "Sorry, babe," I said with a low laugh, "but it is indeed get up and go time. We've got shit to do."

He huffed out an unhappy sigh, but swung out of bed swiftly enough, pausing only to give me a very thorough good morning kiss before getting dressed.

I quickly tossed on some clothes, too; I felt a bit scruffy in my tattered jeans and Led Zeppelin next to Elijah's crisp dress shirt and stylish blazer, but another kiss from my lover had me forgetting all about those petty worries.

We went downstairs and ate a quick breakfast with our family, then carpooled over to the Generations Meeting Hall in a twelve-seater van that had somehow appeared in our driveway overnight (I wasn't sure which of Marcel's vampires kept bringing home a variety of new cars, but I made a mental note to find out and buy him or her a present of some sort). The ride over still felt a bit cramped, but that might have been more to do with the fact that we were a hodge-podge of witches, wolves, humans, and vampires crammed into a small fast-moving hunk of metal than anything to do with actual leg-room.

In any case, we arrived at the meeting hall in relatively good time considering the traffic, and went inside expecting anything from an empty room to another day of arguing and talking.

Imagine my surprise when we discovered that not only had the supernatural community of New Orleans reached an understanding, but that they'd decided to institute the council of leadership as we'd suggested.

What threw me for even more of a loop, though, was that they wanted not eight or ten members...but twelve.

They wanted _us_ to be their council, a Council of Twelve.

Me, my brother, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Marcel, Sophie, Camille, Davina, Hayley, Jackson, and Kieran. They wanted the twelve of us to be their leaders. Elijah, Bekah, and Marcel for the vampires, Sophie and Davina for the witches, Cami and Kieran for the humans, and Hayley and Jackson for the werewolves, with me, Ezra, and Klaus as hybrids to balance it all out with our mixed heritages.

I had to take a time-out and sit down very heavily in my chair when I heard that, and nearly passed out from the subsequent shock when, after a brief and hurried discussion among ourselves, our group accepted.

We were now the Council of Twelve, the governing body of the New Orleans preternatural community.

I wanted to throw up.

I'd wanted to help facilitate peace among the different factions, sure. I'd wanted to stay in New Orleans indefinitely, with my mate and our family, and I wanted us to live without the constant threats of doom and death hanging in the air above us.

I hadn't ever, even for a second, considered that someone would think that _I_ was put together enough to trust with leading New Orleans, even via a council with eleven other people.

Once it was decided, though, there was no turning back. Things moved pretty fast once the Council of Twelve was decided upon, and before I could even open my mouth to suggest I be replaced with someone more competent, the group was already deciding on our first meeting day and how often we should officially convene.

The day only got weirder when we got home and Camille announced that we were going to have a family therapy session in one of the sitting rooms.

After we all got settled in and Cami started explaining what we were there for, I realized that it wasn't so much a therapy session for us as a group as it was a sibling counseling session for the Mikaelsons, Klaus and Rebekah in particular, because while they'd been getting along well enough these last few weeks, there was still a lot of pain between them, as there had been since Klaus had learned of Rebekah's summoning of Mikael all those years ago. They'd been making some progress with each other, but mostly they avoided talking about it, or anything else pertaining to their feelings of any kind, and apparently Cami had decided that the time had come to properly hash it all out and begin to heal.

I idly wondered if I should track down a crash helmet and a riot shield.

"Okay," Camille said once we'd all sat down and quieted. "I know that sharing and caring sessions are not something anyone here is very good at, but I think for us to really start to heal and come together like a family is supposed to, we need to start talking about the things that are upsetting for us, the things that make us angry with each other." She opened up the manila folder in her lap and pulled out a stapled packet. "I have some questions here that I'm going to ask, and I want you guys to answer them as best as you can. Honestly," she added, shooting Klaus a pointed look.

Klaus had the decency to look faintly shame-faced, ducking his head to avoid her keen gaze. "Is this really necessary, love?" he asked, sounding considerably less than thrilled at the prospect of baring his soul for the sake of family cohesion.

"It is," Cami answered, her tone making it clear that trying to debate the issue with her would be a colossal waste of time.

Klaus evidently knew better than to even _try_ and argue with her when she was so determined, and subsided with an acquiescent grumble.

"Alright," Cami said, her voice taking on a more professional air as she assumed what I had decided to call Psychologist Mode. "The first question: How do you see your role in your family? I want you to answer with the first thing that pops into your head," she added, "before anyone has a chance to overanalyze or deflect. Rebekah, you go first. How do you see your role in your family?"

Rebekah opened her mouth, seemed to reconsider what she'd been about to say, then chewed on her lower lip nervously.

"The first thing to come into your head," Cami reminded her gently.

And still Rebekah hesitated. "Rapunzel trapped in her tower," she said at last, fingers plucking absently at at loose thread in her skirt. "Safe and protected, but locked away from the world. Locked away from love," she added more softly.

It took me a minute, but I got it eventually. Rebekah was firecely protected by her brothers, but that protection even extended to her love life; Klaus had slaughtered or violently discouraged almost all her lovers or beaus in the past, and that had apparently resulted in Reekah feeling cut off from the very love she craved so desperately. She had Ezra now, but apparently the trauma from all those losses had yet to fully heal.

"An interesting idea," Camille replied, her voice light and soothing. "But Rapunzel _did_ find love, didn't she? A handsome prince climbed her hair and asked her to marry him."

"True," Bekah admitted. "But then Dame Gothel chopped off her hair, tossed her into the woods, and then pushed the prince from the tower."

"But they both lived," I felt obligated to point out. "The prince was blinded by the thorns growing at the base of tower, but he finds Rapunzel in the forest and her tears of joy heal his sight."

"And then they go live happily ever after in the prince's kingdom," Ezra added, reaching out and twining a hand with Rebekah's even as he flashed her an adoring smile.

Rebekah smiled back, a becoming blush staining her cheeks pink. "Happily ever after," she repeated, her tone slightly reverent, like the phrase itself was a dream come true.

Camille, looking satisfied, turned her attention to my lover. "How about you, Elijah? How do you see yourself?"

Elijah frowned, seeming genuinely at a loss for how to answer. "I do not know," he admitted after a moment, eyes dark.

"There must be something," Cami pressed.

"Custodian?" Elijah offered uncertainly, looking uncomfortable. "It has long been my sole focus to look after my siblings and try to keep them out of trouble, and when that failed, clean up the messes they leave in their wake. Other than that..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I'm not sure what I am outside of that."

My heart ached at his answer; he;d devoted literally his entire existence to taking care of his family, to the point that without that duty he didn't have any idea what to call himself or what to be.

His family wasn't all he had anymore, though, and he needed to be reminded of that. "You're also mine," I told him, letting just a hint of wolfy possessiveness creep into my voice as I scooted my chair closer to his.

He looked over at me and the smile he sent my way was like the sun coming out after a three day rainstorm. "And you are mine, Zorana."

A declaration like that from any other man would have raised my hackles, but coming from Elijah it was absolutely perfect. " **я люблю тебя** ," I said happily. _I love you_.

I wasn't sure if Elijah understood the words I used, but he picked up on the meaning easily enough. _"Jeg elsker deg og_ ," he replied in Norwegian, a language that I'd never heard from him before but knew must have been his mother tongue many, many years ago. _I love you, too_.

Camille looked at us, that pleased expression creeping across her face again, then turned to Klaus. "Your turn," she informed her boyfriend.

"Must we?" Klaus groused, clearly uneasy.

"We really must," Cami informed him, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow expectantly. "How do you see yourself in this family?"

Klaus actually fidgeted in his seat, like a schoolboy called upon unexpectedly in class, and had he not looked so deeply uncomfortable it would have been adorable.

"Klaus," Cami said, and though all she said was his name, her tone of voice conveyed a lot of meaning. And apparently it was enough to prod Klaus into actually speaking.

"Who I am in this family is, and always has been, incredibly obvious," he said, his voice taking on that slightly cutting edge it gained whenever he was lashing out in self-defense. "The bastard. In more ways than one," he added, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"Oh, Nik," Rebekah said, her voice sad and frustrated at the same time. "You have to realize that we don't care about that!"

"How can you not?" Klaus snapped. "It's all Mikael ever cared about!"

"We're not him," Elijah said, his voice rough. "Niklaus," he went, talking over Klaus when he would have interrupted, "you are our brother and we love you. Who your birth father was is of little consequence to us; if it ever seemed otherwise to you, I cannot apologize enough for that."

Klaus just huffed out an angry sigh and crossed his arms. "This is a bloody waste of time," he hissed, eyes flashing wolf-gold as his temper churned.

"We've got time to spare," Camille said evenly, not seeming the least bit unsettled by the suddenly volatile atmosphere surrounding us. "And this is something we _need_ to talk about, Klaus. I won't have you constantly putting yourself down for something that you can't change. Especially when it's something that doesn't really matter to anyone who truly cares about you."

"I am a _bastard_ ," Klaus said through gritted teeth.

"And it doesn't _matter_ ," Cami told him seriously, looking at him earnestly. "That's what we're trying to tell you, sweetie. We don't care if you were born out of wedlock from an affair. We. Don't. Care. We care about _you_ , Klaus, regardless of who your parents are."

"But if it's not something anyone cares about," Klaus said in a low pain-filled voice, "then why does everyone always treat me differently because of it? Why am I treated as lesser because of it? Why," he went on more heatedly, "am _I_ always the one hurt or attacked, even when I have done no wrong?!"

 _Why does everyone keep betraying me and leaving me behind_ , was what he was really asking, I realized. My heart lurched painfully in my chest, and low wolf-whimper escaped my throat.

"Because sometimes people make mistakes," Elijah answered, grief and guilt clear on his face and in his voice. "Sometimes we think we are doing the right thing, or believe that we have no other choices, or are acting out of self-preservation...and because of our selfishness, we unintentionally bring harm to those we seek to protect." He swallowed hard. "I have failed you, Niklaus, many times. I should have protected you, should have-"

"Enough," Klaus growled, swiping at a tear sliding down his cheek. "You don't owe me any apologies."

"On the contrary," Elijah countered, "I owe you a thousand years' worth of apologies, Niklaus. I am your older brother," he continued. "It is my obligation- no, my honor- to protect you, and stand at your side, and it has taken me far too long to realize that I have not truly lived up to that role in your life."

"I don't need your protection," Klaus argued, but his anger was fading now, some of the hurt eased by the obvious sincerity of his brother's apology.

"Everyone needs protection from time to time," Cami said reasonably, flashing Elijah a grateful smile. "It's doesn't make you weak to admit that you need help, Klaus. It just makes you human."

"Haven't been that in centuries, love," Klaus returned, but it was said with a tired smile rather than a bitter one.

"I'm sorry, too," Rebekah blurted out suddenly, her voice cracking. "God, Nik, I've hurt you so many times, I can't even-"

"It's fine," Klaus said shortly, cutting her off.

"No," Rebekah said. "It's _not_. I was angry and jealous and lashing out and that doesn't excuse _any_ of it. I betrayed you, Nik, and I'm so sorry. I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but I swear that if I could make up for what I've done to you I would, no matter the cost. You can be annoying and frustrating and overbearing, but you're my brother and I love you, despite all of it, and what I did was horrible and awful and I just..." She buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what the bloody hell I was thinking," she whispered.

"You were desperate to be free," Klaus said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Believe me," he told her, "it's a fierce hunger that I am well-acquainted with. When I first learned of how you summoned Mikael," he went on, "yes, I was furious and wrathful. I wanted nothing but vengeance against you for the pain and fear you brought me with your actions. But," he added, "I have had time since then to reconsider my actions, to think upon the matter. And I understand, Rebekah," he said softly. "You wanted your freedom. You were desperate for it. I don't agree with the course of action you chose, but I understand your reasons for it. You thought it was the only way to be free, and you acted accordingly. And I..." He shook his head and swallowed hard. "I forgive you for it, Rebekah. Truly, I do."

Rebekah stared at him with wide eyes. "You...what?"

"Forgive you," he repeated seriously, eyes shining with tears. "You are my sister, Rebekah, a precious treasure in this patchwork family of ours. The thought of losing you destroys me, and I don't want the past to tear this family apart anymore." He reached out a hand towards her. "Shall we let bygones be bygones?"

Rebekah looked at him in complete and total shock, then jumped to her feet with a shriek of joy. "Yes!" he exclaimed, vaulting forward to tackle him in a hug, the movement so strong that she nearly knocked him right out of his chair. "Absolutely!"

Rebekah, I realized, had been craving love not just of the romantic kind, but of the unconditional familial sort as well. And until now, she hadn't been certain of it, hadn't trusted in that sibling bond to win out over old grudges and recently discovered wrongs.

And Klaus had been hungering for this sense of family all along, probably since his human life. It was painful for me to think about how he'd needed to suffer through a thousand years of agony and betrayal to find this sense of belonging, but at least he finally had the family he'd always wanted but had never felt he'd deserved.

"Well," Camille said, looking tired but satisfied, "I think that's great progress for the day. I'm proud of you guys for opening up like that. I think you needed it. We'll have another group session in a few weeks, but for now I think we've done enough. You're all doing really well."

Yes, I thought to myself as I looked first at the Mikaelson siblings, and then at our group as a whole. We _were_ doing well. Not only were we a united force against any who would come after us, we were finally starting to heal the hurts on our hearts that had been with us for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this chapter was hard for me to write at various points, but I think it turned out relatively okay? I don't know, drop me a review and let me know what you thought. XD I tried to work in some reconciliation between Klaus and Bekah because some readers have been asking for Klebekah moments for a while now, and somehow it all transformed into a Mikaelson group therapy session. XD And not that anyone cares, but I actually did do some research on family therapy sessions and sibling relationships for the sake of the chapters.
> 
> Also, in case anyone's wondering what's up with the little bits of Russian Zoe uses during the chapter, the first thing she says is "dorogoy", and means "darling". Since she's much more comfortable around Elijah now, and more comfortable with herself and her surroundings just in general, she'll probably be slipping in Russian endearments for people from time to time. ;) And the same goes for Elijah and his Norwegian; the Mikaelsons were originally from Norway after all, and didn't move to the New World until after Elijah had been born. And they would have presumably still spoken some Norwegian after coming to what eventually became Mystic Falls, because you don't simply ditch your native language just because you moved across the world. At least not in my opinion. So when Elijah's feeling really content about things, he might toss in some Norwegian, particularly if it's in answer to Zoe using Russian; it'll sort of be a way for them to share little bits of each other and where they come from.
> 
> Let's see, what else, what else...Ah, yes! As previously mentioned in the last chapter, I recently started a Teen Wolf fic. It's my first for that fandom, is a Peter/OC fic (I almost did a Sterek or Stydia fic, but changed my mind at the last minute) that's going to mostly take place in between Seasons 5 and 6, and it's called Echoes of Remembrance. I only have a few chapters posted so far, so any feedback at all would be super welcome and greatly appreciated. Also, I'm always on tumblr if anyone wants to ask me anything, whether it be related to my fics, my published works, or just anything at all really. I adore getting asks on tumblr (especially when it's those ask games, like 'make me choose between this character and that character, or this show or that show'), and I'm always happy to hear from you guys, so feel free to send me asks or messages on tumblr anytime; my username on tumblr is yuzukimist and the blog is called Moonlit Ramblings. You'll know it's my blog because the first line of the description is a quote about deadlines. XD
> 
> Anyway, that's all I've got to say for now! See you guys soon! :)


	93. Chapter 93

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, my friends. We're starting the final arc of this story now. Basically it's the Hayley-gives-birth-to-Hope-and-we-finally-meet-Reginald-Storme arc. Yes, it's taken all this time, but we'll finally get to meet Reginald Storme in the flesh. Not in this chapter mind you, not yet, but very, very soon. Probably in the next chapter? This chapter mostly sets us up for meeting him; as with previous chapters, I'm keeping some things from the canon of the show (in this case, Hayley getting taken by Monique while pregnant with Hope), and twisted and added on to it (basically Reginald is going to swoop in at some point and cause even more trouble...mostly for Zoe, because he has a pretty strong fixation on her). So...yeah. Enjoy the chapter, I guess. ;D
> 
> Also, a warning for the chapter for some moderately graphic injuries and swearing.

**Chapter 93**

" **Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change."**

* * *

It was supposed to be an easy and relaxing day.

None of us had any special meetings or obligations to meet, and our remaining enemies had yet to move against us in the two and a half weeks that had passed since the formation of the Council of Twelve. We knew that these idyllic stress-free days would come to an end, probably sooner rather than later, but for now we were content to let each day unfold with as little drama as possible.

So when Hayley decided to have a girls' day out for a last minute shopping trip for baby supplies (scratch that, not even last minute; Hayley's due date had passed right on by three days previously, so her pregnancy was officially in overtime), it was supposed to be an easy and relaxing day. The only things we should have needed to get worked up over were the prices for diapers and what snarky witticisms we wanted on the bibs.

We were at our last stop when everything went sideways.

 _Hortensia's Happy House of Baby Goods_ the store was called, and if not for the disturbingly chipper sales associates that periodically descended upon us to ooh and aah at Hayley's tremendous girth, I would have ranked it as the best store we'd visited so far.

Naturally, it was right when everything was going so well that suddenly it all went terribly wrong.

"What do you think?" Hayley was asking us as we browsed an apparel section. "Do I want the giraffe footsie pajamas, or the zebra?"

"Giraffe," Sophie and Bekah replied, right as Cami and Davina answered, "Zebra."

Hayley scowled at the four of them, then glanced back down at her two choices before looking over to me with a plaintive expression on her face. "Zoe?"

"Both?" I offered uncertainly, giving a slight shrug as I wondered how I'd become the baby-shopping tie-breaker.

"Good idea," Hayley said, looking satisfied by my non-compromise. "My baby deserves one of everything." She tossed both items into our almost-overflowing shopping cart.

I gave the cart a slight side-eye, grateful that the charges for everything would be going on Klaus's credit card rather than mine; the figures on next month's bill would be _horrendous_.

"Let's check out the blankets again," Hayley said suddenly, waddling back towards an aisle we'd already spent twenty minutes perusing.

I rubbed the back of my neck tiredly. "But we already have five blankets, Hayley."

She just shook her head. "We need at least two more," she insisted. "One for every day of the week."

 _This must be nesting_ , I thought, and followed after her obediently along with the others.

I hesitated, though, at the end of the aisle as I caught sight of a vaguely familiar face a couple rows over. Frowning slightly, I reached out and snagged Sophie by the end of her sleeve before she could get sucked into the newest debate over fleece blankies versus cotton. "That girl over by the crib display," I said to her in a low voice. "Is she someone we know?"

I wasn't sure, but I had a nagging feeling that her face was one I'd seen before at some point; evidently not for long because I couldn't quite place her, but...

"Yeah," Sophie said, looking faintly surprised and just a little bit worried. "She's a member of the New Orleans coven. She's one of the ones who went underground with Monique after we set up the Council."

 _What the fuck?_ Why would one of Monique's witches be in this baby shop? She clearly wasn't expecting a baby herself, so why...

 _Ah_ , I realized, a sense of foreboding flaring up within me. _She's tailing us._ For what purpose, though? Surely Monique and her evil witches didn't really care what Hayley was putting in the nursery.

Suddenly, I felt a distinctive crackle in the air, and my heart skipped in my chest. There was another witch here, aside from the one watching us, and they were doing magic. Strong magic, if my instincts were right. The apprehension I was feeling suddenly quadrupled in intensity, and I pivoted on my heel, intending to grab Hayley and hustle her out of this shop as quickly as possible.

It was right around then that everything exploded around us.

* * *

Elijah was lounging in the study, idly flipping through one of Zoe's tattered paperbacks, when it hit him. A sudden sense of fear and pain, like a crushing weight upon his chest.

It took him only a moment to pinpoint the source, and discover that it was pouring into him from that miraculous connection he had to Zoe.

Under normal circumstances, he would have welcomed feeling such a tidal wave of emotion from his lover and mate, but since these feelings were devastating and alarming, it was all he could do to catch his breath and keep from falling out of his chair.

 _Zorana_ , he thought, projecting urgently along their bond. _Zoe, what's happened? What's wrong?_

Nothing but mental static in response, just more pain and despair cascading along their connection.

Elijah dropped the book to the floor and struggled to his feet, heading for the door only to be met by Klaus and Ezra, both of them pale and sweating, eyes wide with the same fear Elijah was currently experiencing.

"Something's wrong," Klaus said through gritted teeth, his hands clenched into fists. "I don't understand what's happening, but I feel as if someone's dancing on my grave."

"It's the mate bond," Ezra said, trembling so hard he was practically vibrating. "Something happened to Cami, and the connection's giving you the feedback." He gave an even more violent shudder. "Something's happened to Bekah, too," he murmured, then spun around and lurched towards the front hallway, clearly intent on tracking her down at once.

"I'm feeling it as well," Elijah told them, slinging an arm around Klaus's shoulders and supporting him as they followed after Ezra towards the front door. "Something must have happened to the girls."

"Jackson must be affected as well," Klaus muttered, words slurring together as they stumbled out the door towards the closest car. "Wherever he is."

"He and Eve had to go meet with some new additions to their pack," Ezra reminded him, fumbling with the key fob and nearly dropping it twice before managing to unlock the car doors. "But yeah, if Hayley's hurt or something, he'll feel it. Probably," he amended, teeth chattering as he slid into the driver's seat. "Their connection is still really fresh and new; it might not have the depth necessary for this sort of thing."

"Are you well enough to drive?" Eliajh felt obligated to ask as he and Klaus slid into the backseat.

"Absolutely fucking not," was Ezra's immediate response. "But I'm better at functioning when in debilitating agony than either or you, so shut up and get buckled in."

"Bossy," Klaus grumbled, but complied as Elijah did the same. His voice was low and worried when he spoke again. "They're going to be alright," he asked, "aren't they?"

"I don't know," Ezra answered, anxiety clear in his tone. "But as much as it sucks, it's good news that we're getting this nasty feedback through the bonds; it means that they're still alive, even though they're in pain." He started the engine and pulled into the daytime traffic with a squeal of tires. "Now we just need ot get to them before something else happens."

* * *

I woke up to find myself trapped under a hundred and fifty pounds of wood, brick, and plaster, and after a long moment it occurred to me that Hortensia's Happy House of Baby Goods had been blown up and collapsed on top of us.

It was not a happy discovery. Even less so when I tried to shift position and discovered that not only were my ribs broken on my right side, but a thin piece of rebar had punched a hole through me, coming dangerously close to puncturing my lung.

 _Oh, wait_ , I thought weakly as I was seized by a sudden coughing fit and watched in vague horror as blood splattered against the chunk of concrete in front of me. _Never mind. Lung's punctured after all._

I struggled to catch my breath, but only succeeded in spitting up more blood and nearly passing out from hyperventilation. In the end, I focused on taking careful, shallow breaths. It hurt like fucking hell, worse than any of injury I could ever remember having. Every single breath I took felt like hundreds of hot daggers being stabbed into my chest cavity, while simultaneously having a thousand-pound anvil sitting on my breastbone.

My vision flickered with bright spots, went dark for a moment, then crackled back into focus. _Am I dying?_ I wondered, then dismissed the thought. I was immortal; I couldn't be killed, not by anything less than decapitation. Hopefully.

Then I recalled that I had been in the company of five other women who were not cursed with immortality. Rebekah, as a vampire, should be fine. But Davina, Camille, and Sophie all had weak mortal bodies, and Hayley...

_Oh my God, Hayley. And the baby!_

I managed to take a deep breath, ignoring the agonizing lances of pain that shot through my body in retaliation, and dragged myself out from under the chunk of ceiling that had fallen on top of me.

"Hayley," I called out, or tried to; having a punctured lung, it turned out, had a considerably negative impact on one's shouting abilities. Still, I tried again. "Hayley!" I croaked out.

"You'll never see her again," a girl's voice informed me, sounding smug, and after twisting around to find the source, I saw Monique, standing on a pile of rubble with a satisfied look on her face.

"What have you done with her," I demanded, blood seeping out of the hole in my side as I wheezed.

"We took her," Monique informed me, the infuriating smile still on her face. "And soon, that baby will be ours. And once we sacrifice it to the ancestors, they will gift us with more power than ever before!"

 _Oh, hell no._ "You hurt that child, or her mother," I warned her, wrath stirring within me, "and there will be no where you can run to in order to escape. We will hunt you to the ends of the world and tear you apart while you beg for mercy."

Monique just snorted. "We'll see," she said, and then she was gone, turning away and racing off down the street, disappearing into the surging crowd of onlookers that was accumulating a couple hundred yards away from the collapsed building. After a moment of careful squinting, I was able to see past the crowd and see where she went, to a nondescript gray van where three other young witches were loading an unconscious Hayley into the back of the vehicle.

"Fuck!" I shouted, and then curled up on my side, clutching at my ribs and my wound and crying because I couldn't fucking breathe and everything fucking hurt and I was a fucking failure because Hayley had been taken I was supposed to keep her safe and protect her from our enemies.

 _Way to go, Zoe_ , I thought sarcastically to myself, self-loathing swirling inside me. _Great job_.

Then I dragged myself out of the impending spiral of self-hate, because while Hayley had been taken, my other friends were still unaccounted for, presumably trapped somewhere in the rubble.

I coughed up some more blood, then crawled across the wreckage to where I remembered them standing before everything had fallen down around us. "Guys?" I choked out. "Can you hear me?"

No answer.

"Please," I begged, my throat raw. "Please, somebody answer me!"

"Here!" Rebekah called out, her voice muffled by the slab of roof that had apparently blocked them in. "Zoe, we're here! At least," she went on, "I've got Sophie and Davina. Davina's pendant did some sort of lightshow, and we were kept safe since we were right beside her."

The protection spell, I recalled, grateful beyond measure that we'd set up that amulet. It had created a safety bubble around Davina, and that protection had extended to anyone in close enough proximity.

"What about Camille?" I asked, and then saw the answer for myself because she wasn't trapped below like the other three, but above like I had been. Only she was sprawled out on a pile of collapsed shelving with a huge chunk of the ceiling _on her leg_. "Shit, Cami!"

I scrambled over to her, since Bekah and the others would be safe enough until someone could dig them out. I touched Cami gently on the shoulder and gave her a shaky smile as she peered up at me, pain clear in her gaze. "Hey, Cami. How's it going?"

"Pretty shitty," she answered, mustering up a pained smile of her own before looking at where she was pinned. "My ankle _really_ hurts, Zoe."

"It's probably broken," I told her regretfully, and turned an appraising eye to the offensing hunk of junk that was responsible. "I think I can lift it off of you, but it's going ot hurt."

"It already hurts," Cami answered dryly, and I nearly laughed, because if Cami was still managing to scrounge up some sarcasm then surely everything was going ot be okay. "Just get me out of here."

"Okay," I said. "Hang tight."

"Where am I going to go?" she shot back, and I did laugh then, but it turned into a ragged hacking cough that ended up splattering blood all across Cami's face.

"Sorry," I wheezed, and waved off her worried questions. "I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry. Let me just get this off you, okay?" I turned away before she could fret over me anymore, because I didn't deserve that concern, not when I'd failed them all by not keeping us safe.

My body did not like my plan to life the massive chunk of wood, metal, and fiber cement off of Cami's leg. My broken ribs shifted and stabbed at me from the inside, and my punctured lung was suddenly twenty times worse from the exertion, and I very seriously began to wonder if I _was_ actually going to keel over and shuffle off this mortal coil because of my devastated physical condition.

 _No_ , I told myself sternly, trying to dredge up some extra strength. _Don't you give up here, Zoe Storme. You need to keep you friends safe. Keep your_ _ **family**_ _safe. Suck it up, and get to work_.

I gripped the chunk of ceiling and strained, distantly feeling something in my shoulder give as I struggled. But I ignored it, just like I ignored all my other wounds and injuries. Those injuries didn't matter, not yet. Once I got Cami free, and once the others were out as well, then I could collapse and allow myself to writhe in agony. Until then, I had to hold my shit together. _Come on, Zoe. Almost got it. Just lift it a little bit more..._

With a hoarse shout, I heaved once more and managed to lift up the chunk of ceiling and shove it away from Cami, freeing up her leg.

I gave her ankle a brief inspection, and winced as I saw that, yeah, her ankle was definitely broken; the flesh around the break had already begun to swell up and turn color, and I had to blink back tears as guilt and frustration swelled up inside my again. "I'm sorry," I said in a scratchy whisper, reaching out and squeezing her hand gently.

"For saving me?" Cami asked, arching an eyebrow. Then she gave a short gasp and turned my hand over. "Zoe, your hands are bleeding!"

I took my hand back and looked at it along with my other one, noting with a dull sort of surprise that my hands were indeed bleeding. I'd apparently torn up the skin of my palms while lifting the debris off of Cami and hadn't even noticed; now that I saw it, of course, I became aware of the hot itching pain in my hands and I nearly groaned as that pain added to my already substantial mountain of physical agony. _This day fucking sucks_.

I opened my mouth to tell Cami to sit tight because I was going to try and dig out Rebekah, Sophie, and Davina, but then I heard the most glorious sound.

"Zoe!" Elijah called out, his voicing cracking with worry.

I twisted around and saw him hurrying towards us, Klaus and Ezra close on his heels, all three of them deathly pale with frantic expressions. "Elijah," I breathed, and some of the tension leaked from my muscles. If Elijah was here, then everything really was going to be okay. I trusted him to take care of things. To take care of _me_. "I love you," I mumbled as he reached where I sat with Cami in the rubble.

"I love you, too," he said automatically and he knelt down and reached out trembling hands to cup my face. "I thought I'd lost you," he said brokenly, and the despair in his voice made me wince.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, leaning forward and burying my face against his neck, hot tears siding down my cheeks. "I'm sorry."

He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me gently and then quickly letting go when I made a short sound of pain as my ribs objected to the movement. "You're hurt," he said, pulling away and carefully patting me down, his expression darkening with every injury he discovered. When he ghosted a hand lightly across my ribs and I yelped and then coughed up blood all over his immaculate suit, he wasted no time and immediately swept me up into his arms and carried me over to the Jeep that he and the other two boys had arrived in.

"Cami," I said, squirming in his grip before subsiding as another wave of blistering pain rolled through my body. "And Bekah and Sophie and Davina," I mumbled once the agony passed.

"Klaus is with Camille," Elijah told me, his voice low and soothing as he carefully settled me into the Jeep with as little jostling as possible. "And your brother is currently digging out Rebekah and the others. Given his fervency," he added, "they should be free within minutes."

I sat up enough to peer out the back window and saw that Ezra was indeed ripping into the rubble with his bare hands, a look of fierce concentration on his face as he tore away chunks of sheet metal and plaster and tossed them to the side. He didn't even pause or falter, simply kept going relentlessly, his only goal clearly being to get to Rebekah no matter what.

"Wow," I said, and then eased back down on the seat because sitting up even a little bit suddenly seemed like way too much work.

"Wow," Elijah agreed, brushing a strand of bloody hair out of my face, not seeming to care when the sticky red smudged across his fingers. Then he glanced over his shoulder and spoke to someone else. "You've got her?"

"Yes," Klaus said shortly, his voice tense. And then more gently, clearly not to his brother, "Almost there, love. Just a moment more."

"It's just a broken ankle, Klaus," Cami responded, her tone affectionate and exasperated all at once. "I'm fine."

Klaus gave a low growl that pretty adequately demonstrated his disagreement with that statement, but he didn't argue beyond that, simply setting her into the passenger seat of the Jeep and propping her leg up on the dash. "Don't lower your leg," he told her.

"I won't," Cami assured him, then gave him a gentle shove. "Go help Ezra get the others out," she told him.

"You'll be okay here?" he asked her, voice anxious.

"I will," Cami promised, squeezing him on the arm. "Now go."

"Wait," I said, bolting upright again and counteracting her request. "Before you go, you need to know. Hayley..." I swallowed hard, gagged as more blood and bile rose up in my throat, but forged ahead regardless. "They took Hayley, Klaus. Monique and-" I broke off into a painful coughing fit, fresh blood staining my hands with more bright red splotches as I struggled to catch my breath and not pass out. "And the other witches," I finished weakly, sagging back down onto the seat and clutching my side. "I'm sorry," I added, more tears welling up and spilling across my cheeks, the salt stinging where it ran across the cuts and scrapes I'd acquired during the collapse. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep her safe."

I'd thought that Klaus couldn't turn any paler than he already was, abut evidently I was wrong. He seemed to struggle for composure for a moment, and then reached for me.

I flinched instinctively, but all he did was rest a hand gently on my head.

"Not your fault," he said hoarsely, fingers running through my hair. "Don't blame yourself."

"But I-"

"Not your fault," he repeated sternly, then ducked down to give me a light brotherly kiss on the forehead. "Rest now," he murmured. "Ezra and I will retrieve the others, and then we'll go home to regroup."

"But," I tried again.

"Just rest for now," my Alpha told me, his voice both gentle and commanding, and I obeyed, letting my eyes drift shut as my exhaustion finally and truly caught up with me and sucked me back down into the blissful emptiness of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well?! What did you guys think? Good, bad, so-so? I'd really appreciate some feedback if you've got a second to drop a review. :)


	94. Chapter 94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, my friends, the plot's going to be picking up in pace from here on out. By which I mean: hurtling for the finish line, because my original plan for this story was to clock in at a hundred chapters when everything's said and done. I'm hoping to stick to that plan, although it might result in some chapters being longer than usual. But that's okay, right? You guys don't really mind longer chapters. XD
> 
> Anyway, thanks as always to everyone who's (still) reading this, with bonus thanks to everyone who's reviewed/bookmarked/kudos'd/etc. You guys are the best!
> 
> Also, if anyone's interested, I'm going to be posting more "screenshots" both on my tumblr (my handle over there is yuzukimist, and the blog is titled Moonlit Ramblings) and as part of my Inevitable: Screenshots series that I have here on Archive Of Our Own (ao3) as a companion to Inevitable. I'll be doing one new screenshot a day until the day after Christmas, and then one with every new chapter of Inevitable until we reach the final chapter. Pretty please check them out if you've got a second to spare; there are currently about eleven of them posted already, not counting the one I've already done for today and the ones I'll be doing from here on out. ;)
> 
> Happy holidays, and enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 94**

" **A person, who no matter how desperate the situation is, gives others hope, is a true leader."**

* * *

When I finally clawed my way back to the waking world again, I was fairly surprised to discover that I was in my wolf shape.

 _Huh_ , I thought to myself as I carefully padded to the edge of my bed and hopped to the floor, mindful of my claws and how I wanted to avoid tearing my bedcovers. _Must have shifted after I passed out_. It made sense, sort of; a shift into my werewolf form would theoretically accelerate my healing factor, and my body had probably done the change automatically because of how badly wounded I'd been.

Still, it felt weird waking up in my wolf body after falling asleep in my human one; I couldn't remember the last time such a thing had happened, at least to me. The only memory of it that I could recall was a time when I'd been very, very young and my father had brought home kid-sized roller-blades for me; I'd been so excited that I'd strapped them right on...and skidded right into the barbecue grill we'd had on the edge of the patio.

It had been, needless to say, a disaster all the way around. I'd been so miserable that I'd sat out in the backyard crying for hours afterwards, until I'd exhausted myself and fallen asleep, as young children tended to do in such situations. I'd then woken up in the living room wearing my wolfskin, with my parents and brother wrapped around me in their wolf bodies in a show of solidarity. It had been my first post-injury-wolf-pile, and it had done wonders for my sulk.

 _Okay, Zoe_ , I told myself sternly. _That's enough of strolling down memory lane. One of your friends has just been abducted, or have you forgotten?_

I winced as those memories came rushing back; the spell going off, the building crashing in around us. That stupid smug little witch bitch telling me that they'd taken Hayley...that they were planning to sacrifice her baby.

 _Oh, those bitches are going to pay for this_ , I thought grimly, and shifted back into my human form.

A brief self-examination confirmed my earlier theory; shifting in my sleep had healed me. Mostly, at least. I ached all over and it still really hurt to breathe but at least I wasn't coughing up blood all over the place.

I got dressed as quickly as my tired and stiff body would allow, paying little attention to the clothes I threw on other than to note that they were clean and not too ratty; I ended up wearing a long-sleeve shirt with an AT-AT on it and a pair of jeans that had been washed so many times that the original color was a mystery. I also didn't even bother to brush my hair, just twisted it into a messy ponytail as I left my room and went in search of my friends and family.

Finding Klaus turned out to be unexpectedly easy; he was down the hall in Cami's room, coaxing her to drink some sort of healthy herbal tea that would help soothe the sharp pain of her broken ankle.

"This tastes like dirt," Cami informed him, shifting in bed and making a face as she sipped from her mug.

"It does," Klaus agreed, a tender smile flooding his face with warmth. "But it will make you feel better, love, I promise. Just a few more sips, for me?"

Camille gave a pout that should not have looked so adorable on a grown woman, then complied, swallowing down two more gulps before setting the mug down on her bedside table. Then she glanced back at Klaus, and seemed to finally notice me lurking in the doorway. "Zoe!" she exclaimed, eyes widening. "You're awake!"

Klaus twisted around so quickly I was briefly worried about him throwing his back out. "We didn't expect you to be up for at least another two or three hours," he said.

"Well, here I am," I said, spreading my arms and offering a weak smile.

"How are you?" Cami asked anxiously, sitting up and leaning forward with an intense expression. "Because the last time I saw you, you were coughing up blood but insisting that you were fine and I really don't-"

"I'm okay," I said quickly. "Really. I'm fine. I-" I broke off with a sharp inhalation as a sudden pain lanced through my side, making me wobble where I stood, but I managed to get a strong grip on the door-frame and prevent myself from keeling over. "I am not at a hundred percent," I admitted once speaking became possible again. "But I think I'm through the worst of it."

Klaus and Cami looked equally unconvinced by my assertion, and exchanged one of those looks where you know the couple in question is having an entire conversation even though neither one is saying a single word.

"Elijah's downstairs," Camille said at last, after looking long and hard at my face and seeming to arrive at the conclusion that I was actually (mostly) okay. "He's helping Ezra and Marcel patch up Rebekah and Sophie."

"I know," I said simply, because my awareness of Elijah had skyrocketed sometime between the building collapsing and waking up wearing my wolfskin. I wondered at it a bit, about whether it was a natural progression or the result of the shock and trauma from the building collapse, but found that I didn't actually care about the cause and was actually pleased by that sensitivity being dialed up to eleven. It was incredibly reassuring, to be able to turn my gaze inward to that tie to my mate and not only have that connection but to also know that he was downstairs and in the lounge with my brother, who I could also sense thanks to our sibling bond, and the others.

Then I swallowed hard, because someone important was missing from that group downstairs. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect Hayley," I whispered, so quiet that no one with normal hearing would be able to distinguish the sound of my voice.

But Klaus had keen hearing from both his vampire and werewolf heritages, and he heard me perfectly fine. "Enough of that," he said, scowling at me. "Zoe, it wasn't your fault. I know that. We all know that. _You_ know that."

"It was my job to protect her," I argued, guilt swirling inside of me like a hot sickness. "And I failed. And now those psychos have her, and she's one wrong sneeze away from giving birth, and once they have their hands on the baby-" I broke off as my rapid breathing morphed into panicked hyperventilation and my injured lung started up with the sharp jolts of pain again.

"Zoe," Klaus said sharply, sliding carefully off of Camille's bed and flashing across the room in a spurt of vampiric speed to grab my shoulders in a firm grip as I struggled for air. "Breathe."

"I'm trying," I snapped. Or at least, I _tried_ to snap; I ended up sounding like a strangled alley-cat, but at least the intent was there.

Klaus, once again surprising me with his gentle kindness (although why I was still surprised at this point was anyone's guess; it had been obvious for a while now that Klaus was a man of many layers, the softer of which had only recently begun to come to light for the rest of us to see), released his tight grip on my shoulders and began rubbing my back in slow, careful circles. "Just breathe," he said again, his voice soft. "Carefully. In and then out again. Come on, you can do it."

I tried to grumble a curse at him, but was too enveloped by my quasi-panic attack to pull it off successfully.

"In and out," Klaus repeated, and if someone had told me a year ago that Niklaus Mikaelson of all fucking people would be coaching me through hyperventilation breathing exercises, I would have split my sides laughing at the absurdity of the idea.

Funny how life turns out sometimes, isn't it?

I sucked in as deep a breath as my wounded side would allow, and obediently exhaled carefully when Klaus told me to. We repeated this painstaking process for an embarrassingly long eleven minutes and forty-seven seconds, during which the rest of our household showed up to lurk in the doorway I'd vacated, drawn to us by the noise we'd been making.

Elijah came to my side immediately, but didn't interrupt his brother's patient guidance for the overwrought hysterical mess that was me. Finally, once I'd managed to get control of myself again, Klaus relinquished me to Elijah, passing me over to my mate after patting me lightly on the head.

"God, I'm such a fucking mess," I muttered, swiping angrily at the tear tracks on my cheeks.

"You're not the only one here who is, darling," Elijah said, a wry smile curving his lips.

"Definitely not," Sophie pitched in from where she stood with Marcel.

"We should buy t-shirts," Davina remarked, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Welcome to Club Crazy."

I snickered despite myself, and something ragged and painful inside of my chest loosened and eased a bit as everyone else chuckled, too. We were all battered and damaged, in ways that extended beyond the physical, but at least we were fucked up together. It was strangely comforting.

"But seriously," Davina went on, somber now, "we need to get Hayley back from the coven. Because take ti from me, those chicks are batshit." She glanced over at Sophie. "No offense."

Sophie gave a self-deprecating smile. "None taken; they _are_ batshit insane, and I apply that description to myself as well for when I was with them. There's no telling what they're going to do with Hayley or her baby."

I swallowed hard as I pieced together my memories of those last few moments before the world had gone wrongside up in the collapse.

 _Once we sacrifice it to the ancestors_ , Monique had said, _they will gift us with more power than ever before!_

"Oh, fuck," I said hoarsely, horror thick in my voice. "They're going to sacrifice the baby. Use it to appease those stupid ancestors and get more power." It was precisely the sort of thing my uncle would do. Well, not quite; like his tie to Sirena had demonstrated, he was more of a tie-myself-to-another-sorcerer/witch-and suck-out-their-power-for-myself type of guy. Not unlike Papa Tunde and how he'd trapped Rebekah for use as his personal magic battery, I realized, and wondered what the hell was up with evil warlocks using others as power sources. Was it really that effective of a method for getting additional power?

And then I realized something else, something even more horrifying than remembering that the crazy New Orleans coven intended to use an innocent baby as a blood sacrifice. Well, maybe not more horrifying, but it definitely ranked right up there, at least for me and my brother.

The spell that had been cast, the one that had detonated inside of the baby store and brought the building down on top of us. It had felt strong, _so_ strong, but now looking back, with the clarity of hindsight, I could also remember it feeling familiar. Terribly, awfully familiar.

Reginald had cast that spell. He had been the one to bring that building down, critically injuring me and my friends and probably killing the innocent human bystanders who'd also been inside at the time.

Our uncle was here. Here, in New Orleans. Right now.

I raced into Camille's bathroom and threw up in the toilet, my ribs flaring with pain as I heaved. "Oh, God," I moaned. "Why is this happening to us?"

Because, _seriously?!_ It wasn't enough that we had to deal with the New Orleans coven on its own, but now Reginald was thrown into the mix as well? Presumably working alongside Monique and the others, because why else would he completely demolish a building for the sake of furthering their latest scheme?

I threw up again, and then once more because what the fuck were we going to do, but then managed to pull myself together, because everyone else was anxiously murmuring behind me and wondering if I'd finally gone 'round the bend for good.

I washed my face at the sink and rubbed at my skin with a hand-towel hard enough to turn my skin an angry pink before turning around and rejoining everyone in the bedroom.

"Reginald is here," I croaked out, shoving my hands nervously into my pockets because I didn't know what else to do with them...although throwing something suddenly seemed incredibly appealing.

Ezra, unsurprisingly, reacted much the same way I had. He turned deathly pale and actually had to reach out and latch on to both Rebekah and Klaus to keep from falling over, his knees clearly about to give out from the shock and fear. "Are you sure?" he asked hoarsely, eyes wide and dark.

I nodded, shoulders hunching in as I recalled the sensation of that spell; it had been one of his workings, I was positive. "I'm sure," I said. "He was the one who brought down the building."

"Your uncle," Marcel said to us, obviously not as affected as we were, "is a dick."

A sharp cackle of hysterical laughter worked its way out of my throat and tore through the room. "That's an understatement," I managed to say once I cut off my bout of disturbing mirth.

"Major understatement," Ezra said in a low voice, still looking shell-shocked. "I can't believe...I mean, we knew he was going to turn up eventually, but...Goddess have mercy, could the timing be _any_ worse?"

"Is he really that bad?" Rebekah asked, chewing on her lip as she rubbed a hand up and down Ezra's arm in an attempt to comfort him. "I mean, the two of you are really powerful, right? You're the last of your bloodline, probably the strongest Storme practitioners in generations."

A quote from _Bunraku_ popped into my head and I found it amusingly appropriate. " _There's always someone more powerful than you_ ," I recited, and shook my head with a grim smile. "Our uncle is the most powerful warlock I've ever encountered. And I'm not just saying that because he's my personal nightmare and the man who utterly destroyed my entire life when I was ten. Wait, scratch that," I corrected. "He destroyed it _once_ when I was ten, and then came back to consign me and my twin to a living hell ten years after _that_ when he caught up with us and cursed us with immortality. So I guess that makes it twice now he's fucked us over, huh?"

I belatedly realized that I was not only terrified of my uncle, but also extremely pissed off at him. It was a strange combination, because part of me wanted to turn tail and book it for the city limit, but the other part me just really wanted to grab a chainsaw and role-play iconic horror movie scenes with the asshole. He would, of course, be the one to end up in pieces. Itty bitty bloody pieces, which I would then gleefully stomp on and burn to ash.

What? I hate the man, he murdered my parents and ruined my life. I think I'm entitled to a bit of vengeful fantasizing.

"We'll deal with Reginald whenever he pops up again," I decided at last, grateful that my moment of blind panic had, it seemed, passed. "For now, we need to focus on getting Hayley back." I turned to Sophie and Davina. "Any thoughts on where they'd take her?"

"Charity Hospital," Sophie said after a moment of tense silence. "It was a teaching hospital that shut down after Katrina; I think one of my cousins used to work there as an admin assistant or something, so it's possible that Monique has access through a hidden entrance or something, if she talked to that cousin. Or threatened him into spilling the beans," she added darkly. "It's the sort of thing she would do now, I guess." She lifted a hand to brush her fingertips against the scars on her throat, a visible remainder of the fact that whatever Monique had become, she was no longer the sweet little girl that Sophie had been trying to save.

I frowned, trying to picture the place in my mind and failing. "Where is it?"

"Tulane Avenue," Davina replied. "It's a couple blocks away from the I-10 freeway, if that helps at all."

It did, oddly enough. "That spooky-ass campus down the road from the library?" I said questioningly, hazily recalling a chunky building of about twelve or so stories.

"That's the one," Sophie confirmed. "They'll need to take Hayley somewhere properly equipped for delivering the baby, but still abandoned because, hello, they've kidnapped a pregnant woman and are planning to steal her baby."

"Well, okay," I said to no one in particular. "One field trip to a spooky abandoned hospital coming right up then."

"Wait a minute," Cami interjected. "We can't just go barging in there, we need a plan."

" _We_ won't be barging in anywhere, love," Klaus told her firmly but gently while looking pointedly at her tightly bound ankle. " _You_ are going to stay here and rest in bed."

Cami looked no small amount of outraged. "Klaus Mikaelson, you cannot possibly be thinking of leaving me behind!"

"On a critical rescue mission where we'll be fighting psychopathic witches to the death? Camille, I am most certainly leaving you behind. You could be killed, for pity's sake."

"Klaus-"

"I'll call your uncle and have him come keep you company," Klaus offered, giving a this-is-the-best-you're-getting-from-me shrug.

Cami just scowled at him. "I am not letting you go without being properly armed, at least," she said at last, leaning over to snatch up a small notebook from her bedside table. She flipped through it quickly and then yanked out a page towards the end. "Take this," she said, handing it to Klaus. "It's a list of some things in Kieran's little storeroom of weirdness that might come in handy. Zoe and I have been cataloging everything in our downtime," she explained at the others' curious looks. "At least a couple of the items on that list should help even the playing field a bit, help you fight against the coven."

"It wouldn't hurt to be better equipped when we storm into the hospital," Marcel admitted, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. "I mean, I know we're on a time-crunch here, what with how Hayley's probably about to pop and all, but..."

"No, you're right," Klaus said, nodding in agreement. "We have too much at stake to risk going off half-cocked. We'll make our preparations- quickly- and then reconvene here, at which point we will leave to go and rescue Hayley."

"Sounds good," Ezra said. "Zoe and I will go and grab the stuff from Kieran's place." He chucked me lightly on the upper arm and headed for the door. "C'mon, sis. Let's get our hustle on."

"Yeah," I murmured absentmindedly, my thoughts going in about a thousand different directions at once. "Let's get going."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was Chapter 94. Your thoughts? Good, bad, so-so? Pretty please drop me a review if you've got a second to spare; consider the feedback your holiday gift to me. ;D Nothing brightens my day like reviews or comments from you wonderful readers, so I truly can think of no better gift. :)
> 
> Anyway, as previously mentioned, I'll be posting more "screenshots" on my tumblr and on ao3, so keep an eye out for those. The next chapter of the story itself will be posted within a week! I may or may not do a bonus update for Christmas; I want to, but it depends a lot on my work schedule so we'll see. In any case, I love you guys and hope you have a wonderful holiday season! See you soon!


	95. Chapter 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...welcome to Chapter 95! I hope you're all doing well! And that you had a good holiday! Thanks as always to everyone reading this, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed/bookmarked/kudos'd/etc. You guys are all awesome! Thanks for sticking with this story (and me) for so long!
> 
> Anyway, this chapter centers around Zoe and Ezra, and consists mostly of flashbacks to the deaths of Lucas and Rina, the twins' parents. So now you'll be able to see the details of what happened on that fateful day all those years ago. There are some cute moments with kid-Zoe and kid-Ezra, and some sweet moments between little Zoe and her mother, and really just some (hopefully) powerful and heart-wrenching moments throughout the chapter.
> 
> In any case, the chunks of the chapter that are written in italics are going to be flashbacks; you can tell when they start from the date in bold right before. ;) Enjoy!

**Chapter 95**

" **Even painful memories are ties that bind."**

* * *

The drive over to Kieran's apartment was tense and quiet, the only sound in the car the soft whir of the AC. My hands had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel without me meaning for it to happen, and my brother was staring out his window at the other cars we passed as if he expected our uncle to be driving alongside us, waiting for a chance to pounce.

We were nervous and afraid and too tense by far; it was a miracle I was even thinking straight enough to drive without getting us into a wreck, and I could tell by the thin ring of wolf-blue around my brother's pupils that his control was on tenterhooks as well.

We made it to the apartment building without saying a single word to each other, both of us too busy working through our initial stages of fear and denial; once the shock wore off, I knew that we'd have _plenty_ to talk about.

And sure enough, once we exchanged some stilted pleasantries with Kieran's friend Fred, who managed the building, and let ourselves into the apartment, my brother turned to face me.

"What are we going to do?" he blurted out, anxiety all but radiating off of him in waves. "I mean...fucking hell, Zoe, he's _here_."

"I know," I said, fighting to keep my voice calm. "I'm the one he dropped a building on, remember?"

Ezra winced, somehow turning even paler than before. "What are we going to do?" he asked again.

I chewed on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, then heaved a sigh and turned away to start looking for the first item on the list that Cami had written up for us. "I don't know," I said after a few minutes of expectant silence. "I just..." I swallowed bard as some of my most painful memories came roaring up from the depths of my soul. "I don't know," I whispered.

_ **May 19th, 1987.** _

" _Mama, Mama!" I ran into the kitchen, giggling excitedly. "Mama, look what I found!" I thrust my hands out to show her my newly discovered treasure._

_My mother turned away from the vegetables she'd been chopping and looked down at me with a bright smile that made me feel like the sun itself was wrapping me in a hug. "That's quite the lovely flower you have there," she said, kneeling down and reaching out to gently touch the bright white petals. "Do you know what it's called?"_

_I shook my head. "Nuh-uh."_

" _It's called a 'carnation'. A white one like this is supposed to be good luck. And do you want to know a secret?" she added in a stage whisper._

_I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet. "Definitely!"_

" _There's a legend in our family, passed down since the very first generation of Stormes, about this flower."_

" _A legend?" I stared at my mother with wide eyes. "What sort of legend?"_

" _They say," my mother told me, her voice taking on a storyteller's cadence, "that any Storme who finds one of these flowers, while it's in full bloom like this one and at the peak of its beauty, is going to have a **tremendous** destiny."_

_My jaw dropped. "A tremendous destiny?" I echoed, my ten year old's tongue struggling with all the syllables. "What's that mean, Mama?"_

" _Well," my mother replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "it can mean all sorts of different things, sweetheart. It might mean that you grow up and become President-"_

" _Blah," I said immediately, because to a young child nothing is more boring than politics._

" _-or that maybe you'll have a really exciting adventure someday."_

_I perked up a bit at that. "An adventure sounds like fun," I said eagerly. "Can I start now?"_

_My mother laughed, ruffling my hair affectionately. "Not right now, baby girl; it's almost time for dinner. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"_

_I grinned, hopping up and down again. "Okay!" I said cheerfully, then frowned as I realized something. "Ezra found and picked one of these, too," I told my mother, flailing my flower once more. "Does that mean he gets to go on an adventure, too?" I wasn't sure if I liked that; I'd been planning to have him come with me on **my** adventure. Then an even worse thought occurred to me. "What if his adventure and my adventure don't go to the same places, Mama? Will I never see him again?"_

_My mother gave a warm, gentle smile, eyes shining. "Oh, sweetie, don't be silly. The two of you will just have to take your adventure together, that's all. But," she added, wagging a finger, "it'll need to be twice as exciting since you'll both be there. Okay?"_

" _Okay," I agreed, immensely pleased by the thought of an exciting adventure together with my twin. Even though we were only ten, we were already inseparable and I couldn't imagine not having him with me._

" _Here," my mother said, taking my flower and handing me some silverware instead. "I'll put this in water for you if you'll go set the table. Deal?"_

" _Deal!"_

I shook my head, trying to dispel the memories and focus on the task at hand.

"Here's the Needle of Sorrows," Ezra said suddenly, his voice breaking me out of my reverie. "Any luck with the Devil's Star?"

"Uh..." I stared stupidly at the small shuriken I'd been holding for the last five minutes. "Yeah, I've got it right here." _Come on, Zoe_ , I told myself irritably. _Focus_. I carefully wrapped up the throwing star and tucked it into the box we'd brought for transporting the magical objects.

Ezra glanced back down at his copy of the list, then spoke again. "We can't kill him," he said in a flat voice. "We're not strong enough."

I didn't need to ask which _him_ he meant; for us, there'd only ever been the one. Just one man who struck terror into our hearts. "No," I agreed, fear and anger churning in my stomach like acidic butterflies. "Not yet," I added almost as an afterthought, the words tumbling from my lips with no deliberate intention on my part.

My brother's eyebrows shot up as he pinned me in a look of disbelief. "Not yet?" he echoed. "Guy's fucking immortal, Z. I don't think we're going to get around that."

"Maybe not," I conceded. "But we've never actually tried, have we?" In the past, we'd always just...run. Reginald was the big bad bogeyman, a living nightmare from our childhood, and we'd always responded accordingly: by fleeing.

I wondered now if maybe there was a way to weaken him, or possibly even kill him, and we'd just never dared to try.

Of course, when your evil uncle shows up at dinnertime with the sole purpose of slaughtering your entire family, it was hard to be brave.

_ **May 19th, 1987.** _

_I wrinkled my nose in an annoyed pout as I struggled to remember the proper way to arrange the silverware on the table._

_My brother, ever loyal and supportive, stood at my side, frowning with equal perplexity at the spoons and knives we were holding._

" _Why are there spoons?" Ezra asked, scowling at the spoon in his hand as if it had personally offended him. "We're having shepherd's pie."_

" _Maybe we're having ice cream for dessert?" I offered uncertainly, switching the knives and forks around and then back again, wondering if 'this looks okay' was close enough to 'the right way' of laying out the silverware to satisfy our parents. Not that they'd be upset if we did it wrong, but I wanted them to be proud of us, even for something as silly as setting up the cutlery._

" _Nuh-uh," my brother said, emphatically shaking his head. "We only get ice cream on weekends, and today's only Tuesday." His frown intensified. "Or is it Wednesday?"_

" _Tuesday," I said confidently. "Mama had her book club meeting this morning, she only has those on Tuesdays."_

" _Which means no ice cream," my brother concluded. "So why are we putting out spoons?"_

" _Maybe we're having pudding?" I suggested. "Or Mama's thinking her shepherd's pie will be extra mushy today so eating it with a spoon'll be easier than with a fork?"_

" _That must be it," my brother agreed, nodding sagely. "Mama's smart like that."_

" _She is," I said, and then jumped in surprise when a loud chiming sound echoed throughout the house. "The doorbell!"_

" _Mama, Papa," Ezra said, raising his voice to holler down the hallway to where our father had joined our mother in the kitchen, helping her put the finishing touches on our meal. "There's someone at the door!"_

" _Why don't you two go get it for us?" our mother suggested, her lovely voice carrying easily through the tranquility of our house. "Just remember: be polite! No asking any rude questions. And if it's one of those boys from the church again, tell them thank you, but no. Understand?"_

" _Yes, Mama," we chorused, and scampered in down the hall in the opposite direction, heading for the front door._

I grabbed the cardboard box a little more roughly than necessary and stomped into another room, trying yet again to banish my memories of that fateful day...and failing. "Where's the stupid pocket watch that freezes time?" I snapped, tossing aside several other items as I scrounged through a desk drawer.

"Whoa," Ezra said, quickly darting forward to catch an ominously glowing snowglobe that I'd carelessly thrown off to the side. "Easy now," he chastised. "Probably better if we don't go around breaking the dangerous cursed objects, don't you think?"

I opened my mouth to bark out an angry retort, then sighed again and rubbed a hand across my face. "You're right," I said tiredly. "Sorry, I just..."

"I know," he said softly, and pulled me into a tight hug. "But we're going to be okay, Zoe. You and me, we've been through tons of shit together, right? This is just one more challenge for us to overcome."

"But..." I swallowed hard and clung to my brother, pressing my face against his chest as if trying to hide from the world. "But I'm scared," I said in a whisper.

"I know," he said, rubbing a hand across my back. "Me, too. But we've got a ton of other awesome people on our side this time. And you and I aren't exactly who we were before, are we?"

"I guess that's true," I admitted reluctantly. We _were_ different from the way we'd been the last time our uncle had caught up to us. Hell, we were different from how we'd been just a year ago, before coming to New Orleans.

Still, it was hard to separate out the part of me that was still a scared little girl who'd lost everything.

_ **May 19th, 1987.** _

_My brother and I tied in rock-paper-scissors four times before we decided to open the door together and greet whoever was on the other side._

" _Hello," Ezra and I chorused as we swung open the door._

" _Good evening," said the tall dark-haired man on the doorstep, and both my brother and I took an immediate step backwards because of the sheer **intensity** radiating off of this person. "You must be the...hybrid children that I've heard so much about." He smiled at us, but there was something not quite with the expression, like his face didn't know what to do; his lips were stretched a little too far and there was no warmth in his eyes at all. And there was just a wrongness in the air around him, an edge in the air that made me want to run and hide under my bed._

_I swallowed hard and instinctively reached out to hold hands with Ezra. "Can we help you?" I asked the stranger on our doorstep, falling back on politeness because running screaming for my parents somehow didn't seem like a viable option. Or maybe my pride as a quasi-independent ten year-old didn't allow for such blatantly childish behavior; who knows. Either way, I stared back at the intimidating man with all the confidence I could muster, and I could tell from the way my brother straightened his shoulders that he wasn't backing down either._

_The scary man gave another not-right smile, although this time there was something even darker in it, some sort of unsettling satisfaction, as if he'd seen something that pleased him. "Well, aren't the two of you just...precious." His tone of voice indicated that 'precious' was not the word he wanted to use, but he didn't elaborate further. "Are your parents at home, children?"_

_My heart jumped in my chest, because every instinct in my body was screaming at me that this was a trap of some sort, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how exactly. Telling him that our parents weren't home was a terrible idea; even at ten I knew that telling a creeper such a thing was beyond stupid. And yet telling him that our parents were just down the hall also felt like the wrong thing to do. It felt dangerous, with more risk hanging in the air than such a simple question warranted._

_I tightened my grip on my brother's had and said nothing, just looked up at the man with what I hoped was a blank expression._

_His fake smile diminished somewhat. "I see," he said, although what he saw I had no idea._

_Then suddenly he was waving a hand through the air and my brother and I went sailing down the hall to crash into the coat rack._

" _Let's see if we can have some fun here," he said in a voice full of silky menace, "shall we?"_

_Dizzy and disoriented from being tossed magically through the air, I nevertheless managed to scramble to my feet and suck in a deep breath of air. "Mama, Papa," I screamed. "Run!" Someone needed to get away from this madman; he was already too close to me and Ezra, but maybe, just maybe, our parents could escape, and have each other and live their lives in peace again._

_It was a childish hope, but I clung to it._

_Right until the man made another slashing motion with his hand and I went tumbling through the air again, this time slamming into a bookcase that wobbled dangerously and dumped over a dozen heavy hardcovers onto my crumpled form._

_Ezra let out a cry of anguish and fury, and rushed at the stranger angrily, eyes flashing gold as he charged. He actually managed to knock the man back a step from the force of his assault, but then he was tossed through the air as well, landing just a few paces from where I was sprawled on the carpet._

_And then suddenly our father was there, huge and fierce and terrifying in his wolf form, sharp teeth gleaming as his eyes shone gold. He slammed into the stranger and sent him hurtling back down the hallway towards the front door, and then let loose a snarl so ferocious that it rattled our framed family pictures on the walls._

" _You shouldn't have come here, Reginald," a very familiar voice said, and I craned my neck around just enough to see my mother coming into the hallway, a crackling ball of lightning in each hand and an aura of powerful magic all around her. "All we want is to be left alone."_

" _You ask for the one thing I cannot do," the stranger – no, Reginald- replied. "You are my sister, Rina. Blood of my blood. I cannot let this travesty stand; you disgrace our entire lineage with your marriage to this mongrel!" He threw out a handy angrily and a decorative vase went hurtling towards my father._

_Papa dodged easily, his lips curling back as he let loose another rumbling snarl._

" _That 'mongrel' as you call him happens to be my husband," my mother retorted hotly, cheeks flushing angrily. "Not to mention the love of my life!"_

" _Love," Reginald repeated with a nasty sneer. "Come now, Rina, surely you don't believe a pathetic beast such as that is even capable of the emotion."_

" _My Lucas is more than capable of it," Rina snapped. "Certainly more capable than **you**." The lightning in her hands glowed even more brightly. "Why have you come here, brother? What do you want?"_

_Reginald's expression tightened as if he were in pain, and then his sucked in a deep breath as if bracing himself. "To end your shame," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion._

_And then he attacked, tossing a dagger no one had seen across the room at Rina. Lucas reacted instinctively, leaping in front of the blade and taking the hit meant for my mother._

" _Papa!" Ezra and I cried out in unison, both of us frantically crawling to where our father had fallen, writhing in agony as whatever spell Reginald had laid upon the dagger began to eat away at his flesh. Honestly, it was horrifying to see, as if someone had injected acid into Papa's body; it burned and sizzled as it worked its way through his flesh and at one particularly gruesome moment I even caught a glimpse of bone before Ezra managed to somehow dislodge the dagger by prying at it with a piece of the broken vase he'd found on the ground._

" _Please don't die, Papa," Ezra said plaintively, and all I could do was stare at all the blood and gore and whimper, because I knew the truth. I could see it and sense it, with some instinct deep inside of me. No one could survive that horrible of an injury. Not after losing so much blood and muscular tissue. Not even werewolf healing would help with the damage quickly enough to save him._

_Our father was going to die, and as I turned wide, frightened eyes to my brother, I could see in his face that he knew it, too, had sensed it the way I had. It was like being trapped in a car that was teetering on the edge of a cliff. You could see the disastrous fall in your immediate future, but there was no possible way to save yourself._

_Our father was dying, would be dead in just a few moments more, and there was absolutely nothing we could do._

_Our mother Rina must have realized it at about the same time, because she let lose a horrifying anguished scream, and then turned loose the lightning she'd had cradled in her hands. It crackled at first, then roared to life, shooting through the air with a tremendous fury as it went straight for Reginald._

_The lightning forked, dividing into two powerful bolts that struck him dead in the chest, but he didn't die. Didn't even fall over, or stagger back a step._

" _Rina," Reginald said in a chiding tone. "I expected more from you."_

_-She screamed again, that awful sound that made me want to cry and hide and wish for this all to just be a terrible, awful nightmare that I would soon wake up from. Then she thrust out her right hand in a jerky motion, and before I could blink the knife she'd been using in the kitchen came flying into her hand. And then she was rushing down the hall with a frenzied but determined look on her face as she rushed past where my brother and I sat huddled around our father's body._

" _Ezra, Zoe," she said as she took up a position in front of us, facing Reginald with her knife in hand, speaking in a deadly serious tone of voice that I'd never heard from her before. "You run now, fast and hard."_

_I made a sound of protest. "But Mama-"_

" _No buts, Zorana. Go, now. Run, far from this place." She leveled what could only be described as a killing glare at her brother. "You run, and don't stop. Don't let your uncle catch you, not ever, do you understand me? You do whatever you have to do, but stay together and keep each other safe."_

_Ezra and I exchanged helpless looks, both of us totally terrified and uncertain of what to do. We were ten years old, for crying out loud. Where could we go? "Mama..."_

" _Run!" she shouted, as Reginald summoned a fierce whirlwind that began ripping apart not just the hallway but our entire home. " **Now!** "_

_I wanted to scream and throw things and argue about how this wasn't fair, it shouldn't be happening._

_But there wasn't time._

_Not enough time to hug my father's already-cooling body one more time, or to look around and see my home for a final time before it was destroyed in the rapidly escalating magical death-match that was underway._

_No time to run to my mother and tell her one last time that I loved her and wanted to grow up to be as beautiful and amazing as she was._

_There was no time for good-byes._

_The realization of that was more painful than I could have imagined, an agonizing, searing pain in my chest that wouldn't go away, the impact of it so great that it took my breath away. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was the last time I would see my parents in this life, and there wasn't even time to say good-bye. No time to even grieve the loss that was upon us._

_I looked at my twin, and saw a torment equal to mine in his eyes. Our entire lives had just been irrevocably set down a dark and deadly road, and there was nothing we could do._

_Nothing we could do...but run._

" _Come on," I said, grabbing his hand once more and tugging him after me as I stumbled towards the kitchen and the back door that opened out into our backyard. There was a gap in the old wooden fence we could fit through, and from there we could make it to woods that stretched along the river. If were were quick enough...if we were quick enough we could make it. We could get away._

" _No!" Reginald roared, and the intensity of the magical winds ripping through our house ratcheted up even further, furniture and decorations hurtling through the air like deadly debris. A small footstool from the living came sailing through the air and slammed into my shoulder, causing a red-hot burst of pain in my neck and upper back, but I pushed the pain away, refused to acknowledge it._

" _Hurry," I shouted at my brother, all but shoving him into the kitchen in front of me as I turned for one last look at my mother._

_Our eyes met one final time, and there was love and warmth and pride in her gaze. "Run," she said one last time, then, "And live."_

" _We will," I promised, and then turned away as a sharp piece of wood flew through the air on a course for her torso; I heard her scream and smelled the sharp scent of her blood in the air, but I didn't turn around again, and I didn't let Ezra turn around, either. We both knew what had happened; no possible good could come from seeing our mother in her dying moments._

_So we ran._

We'd been running all this time, I realized as my thoughts returned to present day. All those years that had passed and all those miles we'd crossed...we'd just been running and running...and trying to avoid looking back on the wreckage we'd left behind.

"We need to finish this," I said at last, looking up at my brother, resolve strengthening within me even as tears of grief and anger coursed down my cheeks. "It has to end."

Ezra nodded, his own lashes and cheeks wet but his expression decisive. "It's time to put an end to this," he agreed, voice rough and low. "And move on with our lives."

 _Yes_ , I thought to myself as we finished packing up the magical weapons we'd collected from Kieran's archives. It was time for us to stop running scared and start fighting back.

It was time to make a stand.

This time...this time we were going to fight for our family. And there would be no running away.

Not ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand...that's the chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! I know I enjoyed writing it, because it gave me a chance to finally show what happened way back when the twins were kids. I am sorry about the slight delay in posting, but I had to work today and it couldn't be helped. XD [Also, I finally (FINALLY) have a Playstation 3. So I've spent the last hour or so playing Resident Evil 5 for the first time, and that also set back the update a bit (that bit of the delay is all on me, but...oh well. Can you blame me? My first time playing anything on a PS3! It's so exciting! I'm having so much fun~).
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will be up in a week, and as always I am available on tumblr if you guys have any questions or comments; I truly do love hearing from all of you, so feel free to shoot me an ask or a message anytime, about anything at all. :)
> 
> See you next time!


	96. Chapter 96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, one and all, to Chapter 96! Thanks to everyone who's reading the story, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed last time: Anna Okumura, AndrianaWarrior7, kineret, Fangirling007, insane panda hero, Aria green, and Emily! Thank you all for your wonderful feedback! I'm glad that you all found the last chapter so powerful! I must admit, I did my own fair share of ugly crying while I was writing it. ;D Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment to once more say how very grateful and appreciative I am of each every single one of you who's reading this story; your support truly means the world to me, and there aren't enough words to express how much I adore all of you.
> 
> Anyway, Hayley goes into labor during the course of this chapter, and I would like to take a moment to apologize in advance for any portion of her labor that might come off as unrealistic; I realize that childbirth is different for everyone, and I have no firsthand experience with giving birth, so my main resource was the internet and the many, many accounts of childbirth that I read as research for writing this chapter. I basically took what I read, mixed it all together, and applied what seemed reasonable for a difficult vampire-werewolf hybrid baby birth. Make of it what you will, I guess. XD
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 96**

" **If you have something worth fighting for, then _fight for it_."**

* * *

"There's one thing I still don't understand," Rebekah said as we drove at breakneck speeds through the city.

"Just one?" I quipped. "You're miles ahead of me, then."

She cast me a vaguely irritated look before continuing on with what she'd been saying. "The coven's goals I understand; they want to get their power back, and they believe that sacrificing a powerful hybrid baby is the way to achieve that. But Reginald..." She shook her head. "Your uncle's goal was originally just to kill your family, right? Erase the stain of your existence from the your lineage and all that."

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth, wondering why I was paired up with Rebekah rather than Elijah as I'd wanted. "Your point?"

"Well, why didn't he?" She tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the steering wheel even as she blasted through a four-way intersection fill with cross-traffic. "Why curse you to immortality instead?"

"I have no idea," I said angrily. "And I don't really care, Bekah. He murdered my parents and wants to destroy us; he's a threat to be eliminated, and nothing more."

Rebekah sighed. "He's your uncle," she said.

"He's an asshole," I snarled. "A back-stabbing, sadistic asshole who I intend to send straight to hell, gift-wrapped for the Devil."

"All I'm saying," Bekah said, her tone carefully neutral, "is try to figure out why he put that spell on you and your brother. If we can work out his real motivations, it might help us figure out a way to stop him. Permanently."

I wanted to growl and snap some more, but couldn't deny the logic in her argument. And it made me realize why our group had divided into the pairs that it had for the upcoming fight. If I'd been with Elijah, he would have wanted only to protect me and avenge me against my uncle; he wouldn't have stopped to wonder what was driving Reginald, he would have simply wanted him dead as I did. Rebekah was able to offer me an outside perspective, and I had a feeling that Elijah was probably doing the same for Ezra even now, as all of us rushed towards the hospital where Hayley was being held.

We'd all be fighting together, as one large unit, once we arrived at the hospital but in the meantime, Klaus was paired with Sophie and Marcel with Davina, while I had Bekah and Ezra was with Elijah; we'd done our best to match one vampire with one witch, so as to even out the balance of power and all that, in the event that one pair was delayed by the enemy en route and needed to fight.

But as we continued to speed through the city, I found my thoughts drifting, not towards the upcoming fight, but towards a day years past, when Reginald had found me and my brother and cursed us to live forever.

Why _had_ he done it?

* * *

Hayley couldn't recall having ever been in this much pain in her entire life. She'd heard that labor pains were like menstrual cramps on steroids. About twenty minutes after her water broke, she decided that if someone ever said something like that to her again, she was going to rip their hair out.

It hurt so much more than regular cramping, there weren't even words for how to describe. One second, she'd been getting hustled along by the bitches who'd abducted her, the next second, there'd been an unfamiliar wetness soaking her pants and she realized that, _oh hey, I'm having a baby now_.

The idiots who'd kidnapped her had, amusingly, panicked when her water had broken. They'd flailed around for a bit, screaming at each other hysterically, which would have had Hayley laughing out loud had she not been having an _Oh my God, my baby is coming now_ panic attack of her own.

This was not how this was supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to be surrounded by faithless backstabbing cowards in a grungy hospital that hadn't seen a real patient in who knew how long. She was supposed to be at _home_ , with her family and friends and the midwife they'd chosen, having this baby in the comfort of her own bed with everyone she cared about hovering around her in concern and excitement as they helped her bring the newest addition of their strange little family into the world.

She also hadn't expected it to hurt this much. God, why did it hurt _so_ much? Was this normal, or was there something wrong? That sent her off into a another panic spiral, even as two of the witches strapped her down onto a gurney and wheeled her into a delivery room that had seen better days. If everything hurt this badly, did that mean there was something wrong with her? Something wrong with her _baby_? It was a terrifying thought, one that sent icy chills through her already out-of-sorts body.

"Someone gag her," one of the witches snapped when Hayley screamed out as a particularly sharp pain shot through her abdomen.

"Don't bother," another witch countered. "No one's going to hear her screams all the way in here."

"Who cares if anyone else hears," the first one argued, "I just hate the sound of her whining"

 _Whining?_ Hayley thought, mind fogged with pain and worry and fear. _Really? Whining?!_ She was having a baby, for fuck's sake! "I'll show you whining, you little bitch," she snarled, surging up from the gurney in an odd burst of fury. "Bring that pretty face of yours a little closer and I'll-"

Someone slapped her hard across the face, hard enough to send her crashing back down onto the gurney, dizzy and disoriented.

"Don't hit her!" another witch exclaimed, sounding alarmed and angry. "We need the baby alive for the ritual! Storme will have our heads if the baby isn't alive for the process!"

 _Storme_ , Hayley thought distantly, a strange roaring sound in her ears. _Zoe and Ezra's uncle_. _Is he the one who's going to sacrifice my baby to bring the power back to the coven?_ Then another contraction gripped her and everything else fell away. She screamed, hands scrabbling at the cold metal rails of the gurney and squeezing so hard that she could hear the metal creak in protest.

God, it was like her body was trying to twist itself to pieces from the inside out. It was all-consuming, this agony radiating out from her abdomen. And in a cruel twist, it wasn't always consistent; it came in waves, occasionally easing up in a way that made her almost relax a bit...right up until another wave came and then it was once more like she was being run over by a train. And on top of the pain, she felt uncomfortably hot. Like, _way_ hot. It was like someone had stuck her inside of a sauna and cranked the thermostat up past the safety zone. She was sweating buckets and it felt like she standing outside in a heatwave, the kind where it was a hundred and ten degrees out with no hint of a breeze, just enough humidity in the air that a person could almost suffocate.

"Maybe we should give her something for the pain?" one witch asked hesitantly, her voice distant-sounding to Hayley, whose heartbeat was thundering in her ears. "Don't they give birthing women epidurals or something? To make it easier?"

"Forget it," another one answered, voice sharp and cutting. "We're not keeping her alive once the baby's delivered anyway, so who gives a shit if she's in pain? Just let her suffer."

"Bitch," Hayley said, or at least tried to say; it came out much more slurred than she intended, her tongue thick and slow from all the heavy breathing she was doing.

Then another contraction rippled through her body and everything dissolved in pain again, her whole body seeming to clench and go tight as her lower back ached like it was about to snap in half.

It went on like that for what felt like forever, until finally one of the witch-bitches, presumably the midwife they'd chosen, shoved her way between Hayley's legs and looked at her in an intimate fashion that Hayley hoped to never duplicate with anyone other than a lover ever again.

"She's fully dilated," the woman related to others. "It's time."

"Time for what?" Hayley asked weakly, then had her answer before anyone even said anything, because suddenly she was seized by a strong need to push.

"Tilt the gurney up," the other woman ordered. "She needs to be in the right position for this." Then, when none of the others seemed to be paying her any attention at all, just staring at Hayley as if suddenly having a werewolf in labor in their custody was somehow a shock. "Now, you fools!"

They scurried to obey, cranking something underneath the gurney until Hayley was in a more vertical sitting position, hands still clamped on the railings as she cried out and gave in to that overwhelming need to push, _push_ , _**push**_.

Finally, after what felt like ten thousand lifetimes, she felt something shift. Suddenly there was something, some _one_ , emerging from an overly sensitive part of her body that was feeling incredibly sore. Her heart thudded in her chest at the silence that descended up the room, and she wanted to scream at these witches who had taken her from her family, who had stolen her away. Who had stolen this moment.

Then the baby, _her_ baby, let out her first cry, and Hayley did weep, reaching out shaking arms and trembling hands for the goop-covered infant that was being swaddled in a thread-bare sheet that was not at all like the fluffy blanket Hayley had picked out for her baby to be wrapped in upon birth.

"Give her to me," she said, trying to sound commanding. "Give me my daughter."

"No," another voice said, this one familiar among the chattering of the witches she'd never seen before tonight. Twisting her head around, she saw Monique, a smug smile on her young face as she came over and took the baby from the midwife-witch. "This baby isn't yours, not anymore. It is ours, and we shall do what we want with it." A nasty smile stretched her mouth. "It pleases me to tell you, this halfbreed abomination will die. It's a threat to the sanctity of our world, the barriers between us and the monsters and mongrels of the world, and so I can say sincerely that I will be glad to hand this creature over to Reginald Storme. He," she said, eyes glinting with every sledgehammer blow of a word, "is well-versed in how to deal with abominations."

Hayley gasped for breath, heart racing. She needed to think of the right thing to say. The right words, the right sentences, to persuade Monique to give back her baby, her daughter. She needed to find something that would make Monique pause, be sympathetic. Be _merciful_.

But then she looked in those dead eyes, and realized that there was no reasoning with this person. No persuading, no pleading for mercy.

So Hayley didn't bother. Instead, she said what she meant. "You give me back my daughter right this instant, you fucking bitch, or I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and tear you apart! Give me my baby!"

Monique just laughed, the sound high and mad. "No," she said, and turned away.

Hayley screamed, and yanked her arms up so forcefully that the straps binding her to the gurney snapped. Her body was not yet recovered from the birth, not by a long shot, but fury and adrenaline were pumping through her like a heady drug, and she was not going to stop until she held her daughter in her arms, dammit.

She was so focused on fighting her way through the witches who were descending upon her and trying to push her back down onto the gurney, that she didn't initially notice when the door to the delivery room blew of its hinges.

She did notice, however, when it crashed into the midwife-witch, flattening her like a scene straight out of a disaster film.

Even though the pain coursing through her body was making her dizzy, uncoordinated, and increasingly weak, Hayley managed to smile and laugh in relief when she saw her family storm in through the doorway, determination clear in their faces.

* * *

All in all, getting to Hayley wasn't as hard as we anticipated. We fought our way through the witches on guard easily enough, cutting through them with ease, dispensing mercy to absolutely no one. Our only real roadblock was the thick reinforced door leading to the delivery room where the witches had barricaded themselves in with Hayley; they'd evidently been planning for this for some time, because obviously that door was not standard issue, meaning that they'd gone to quite a lot of trouble setting all of this up.

In the end, we didn't have time to waste finding another way in, so Ezra and I combined our power to get through the thick door using a controlled lightning blast spell that sent the door tumbling end over end very dramatically; we entered the room itself just in time to see Hayley clawing at the small mob of frantic witches that was surrounding her, trying to contain her.

Monique, holding what could only be _the_ baby in her arms, gave us a wide-eyed rabbit-caught-in-a-snare look before pivoting around and thrusting the crying baby into the arms of another witch. "Get it to Reginald," she ordered, her words sending an intense chill of foreboding down my spine. "Go, now!"

"Go after her!" Hayley screamed, and the sound of her, so desperate, shredded something apart inside of me. "Stop her!"

I hesitated, torn. On one hand, the baby. On the other hand, there were still angry witches here, almost a dozen of them, and not as many of us.

But the _baby_.

It was no contest, in the end. Everyone else was tied up fighting; Marcel was trading attacks with Monique (I distantly wondered how his relationship with Sophie would fare if he actually succeeded in killing her once-beloved niece), Ezra had shifted into his wolf form and was working on cornering a witch wielding black fire with an assist from Rebekah who would periodically break from her own fight to hurl things at Ezra's opponent to distract her, Elijah was wrestling with a witch who had apparently transformed herself into some sort of demented porcupine monster, all spikes and claws and wriggling, while Davina and Sophie were tossing magical fireballs as two witches who had taken cover behind a toppled cabinet.

The only person who wasn't totally absorbed in the rapidly escalating small-scale war was Klaus, who was somehow managing to fight off three angry witches even as he extracted Hayley from a twisted mass of metal that had been the gurney she'd been on; she had, in her rage, ripped the railings off and hurled them at some of the witches who had been holding her, still screaming all the while for them to give her back her daughter, even as she grew increasingly pale and shaky, blood trailing down her legs in what a distant, clinical part of my mind categorized as what was, hopefully, a normal postpartum symptom. That same logical part of me noticed how heavy the blood flow was, though, recognized it as possibly excessive, and suddenly my brain was lighting up with bright warning signs and snippets of things I'd seen on TV health programs, about things like women hemorrhaging after giving birth. PPH, I remembered it being called. It could cause a person's blood pressure to drop suddenly, and result in shock and organ failure.

"Hayley, you need to shift," I shouted, trying to be heard over the din.

"My daughter," she shrieked, still trying to go after the woman who'd taken the baby. She even struggled when Klaus snapped the neck of her current opponent and pulled the hysterical Hayley up against him to keep her from toppling right over. "I want my daughter!"

Well, there was no denying that somebody needed to go after the witch who'd run off with Hayley and Klaus's child. There was also no denying that I was, apparently, the only one available for the task.

Why, I wondered, me? How was it this sort of thing always came down to me? What had I done in a past life to deserve having these heavy responsibilities put upon my shoulders? What if I wasn't strong enough for it this time?

But there was no time to second-guess myself, not in this. Even as we stood there, sweating and bleeding, the witch who'd taken the baby was getting farther away.

There was no choice. Maybe there never had been.

"Go," Klaus shouted at me, but I was already on my way, sprinting after the witch who'd taken the baby and slipped out through a side door.

"Make sure Hayley shifts," I called over my shoulder as I passed him. "She needs her wolf to heal, or she's going to die." I distantly heard him agree, but then I was slamming through the door and into a dark skinny hallway that smelled like a rodent farm.

The rank odor assailed my olfactory senses, nearly making me break my stride, but I pushed through the urge to double over and vomit, my focus narrowed down almost exclusively to catching up to that fleeing witch and retrieve the baby.

I broke into a full-tilt sprint again, my boots scraping against debris and squishing in things I didn't want to think about as I barreled down the hallway. After about a hundred feet, the hallway split, going in two opposite directions, and I stumbled to a halt, straining my senses for some clue of which way to go. My nose, wolf-keen, was for once not much help; there was too much that stunk in this old abandoned hospital, all the scents jumbling together until I once more came close to throwing up. My eyes were sharp in the dark and gloom of the hallway, but that was of no help, either; I was just far enough behind for her to be ahead enough so that even my strong eyesight couldn't pick her out in the heavy darkness.

My hearing, though, that saved me. Or doomed me, depending on how you view the events that followed. Either way, I heard the witch's quick shuffling steps as she rushed away, the sound echoing back to me from the hall on the right. And then the baby started crying again, the heart-wrenching sound a homing beacon that tore through me with sharp talons.

I took off down that hallway like I'd been shot out of a cannon, drawing on my wolf to give me strength and speed. Finally, I began to catch up; I could see the witch's dirty blonde hair through the gloom, and could see one of the baby's legs as it flailed out of her grip. God, the baby, she was so small, _so small_. Far too small to be caught up in a mess like this; she should have been back with her mother, cradled to a loving bosom and surrounded by loving relations.

It occurred to me, as I charged forward with the intent to grab the witch by her hair and haul her to stop so I could grab the baby, that there was probably not much I would not do to make sure that the baby got back to where she belonged: with her parents, who had been waiting for eagerly for her arrival.

I sucked in a deep breath, tensing to spring, when suddenly the witch halted her escape, stopping dead in her tracks.

I wondered why, until I saw who came out of the shadows to greet her.

"Hello, niece," Reginald said, voice deep and deceptively friendly as he looked right past the witch to where I had stumbled to a stop, my muscles freezing and locking up as something akin to soul-deep terror settled into my bones. "I was hoping that _you_ would be the one to follow." He gave a slow smile, satisfaction shining in his eyes even as the tension in the hallway ratcheted up past describable levels. "I have so been longing to see you again...face to face."

 _Well, shit_ , I thought, heart pounding in my chest even as I struggled to get air in my suddenly-struggling lungs. _This is...not good_.

Really not good. The odds were pretty high that things were about to get very, very bloody.

And still all I could hear was the baby's cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, poor Zoe. Faced with literally the last person she wants to see, and she's got no one to back her up at all. Yikes.
> 
> ANyway, this chapter was actually a struggle for me to write, even though I had it mostly plotted out already before I sat down to write it. Maybe that's why it was tricky? I don't know; I had some brief spates of writer's block, which was weird, because, again, I already had it outlined and everything. Some of the trouble might have come from me losing said outline, but...what can you do. XD
> 
> Anyway, look! Reginald finally showed up! In person and everything! There he is! In the flesh! I know it's frustrating, to have him appear for literally just the end of the story, but that's the way the story worked out, sorry! If it's any consolation, he's not going to just get killed off right away, since I need him for the sequel so I can expand on his history with Esther and how he learned immortality magic and all that stuff. My point is, he'll be getting more fleshed out in the future especially, so if you're disappointed with his minimal introduction here, fret not. There is considerably more of the long-awaited evil uncle to come in the future, especially in the remaining chapters of Inevitable. So stay tuned. ;)


	97. Chapter 97

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my friends! Welcome back! I am so, SO sorry about the delay in posting this chapter; I spent a bug chunk of last week very sick and couldn't do much more than sit in bed, so what would have been my day for updating turned into Day 2 of Wow, I Feel Really Terrible. Saturday wasn't much of an improvement, and I had to call out from work on Sunday just so I could have one more day of rest...thankfully, all the rest seems to have helped, since I'm feeling much better now, just tired and achey. In any case, I just wanted to take a moment to say how sorry I am about the late update, and thank you to all of you who messaged me asking how I was doing; you guys are the absolute best. :D
> 
> Also a big thank you for all you wonderful readers out there for all your time and support, with bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed last time!
> 
> Anyway, about the story: This is a chapter where Zoe once again demonstrates her willingness to sacrifice herself for the people she cares about. It's probably what I consider one of her most consistent characteristics, her penchant for doing this sort of thing, and this chapter definitely involves her doing what, for her, is more or less an ultimate sacrifice given her personal history and the current circumstances.
> 
> I cried while writing this chapter. There was, I am not ashamed to admit, some ugly sobbing. You might want to grab some tissues. XD

**Chapter 97**

" **But love isn't just about feeling good. It's about doing what you don't want to do, over and over again, if it needs to be done, for the sake of someone else. Love is really about self-sacrifice."**

* * *

I tried to think of something witty to say, but came up empty. All I could hear inside my head was my own voice screaming _No, no, no, no, no_. It was not particularly helpful.

Reginald, who Ezra and I had been running from for so very long, was here. Standing right in front of me, barely thirty paces away.

He looked much the same as he had when I'd seen him before, ten years previously, back when he'd done some sort of forbidden spell to make me and my brother ageless and immortal. His hair was dark and styled like a lawyer's, neat and tidy with some silver at his temples, just like I remembered. He even still had the Van Dyke beard, also streaked with some silver, although maybe it was a circle beard...I'd never been quite sure of the distinction between the two, not being overly familiar with facial hair myself, since most men in my life never went past the sexy stubble stage.

_Stop woolgathering and focus_ , I ordered myself. _Come on, Zoe, he's standing right there, for fuck's sake, get your shit together!_

I couldn't, though. My knees, if they hadn't completely locked up, would have been shaking, and my hands were clenched so tightly into fists that I could feel my nails starting draw blood from my palms.

_Say something_ , I told myself, almost angrily. _Say something, dammit!_ The silence was stretching on too long, Reginald just looking at me, the smug condescending smirk on his face. "Long time no see," I said at last, and was relieved to hear that my voice was rock-steady and ice cold. _Good. Keep calm, keep cool._

"Not through any choice of mine, dear niece," Reginald replied, voice full of false regret even as he assumed an expression of hurt. "You and your brother have been so elusive these last few years, avoiding me as if I were some ancient death plague come to life!"

I opened my mouth to say something caustic, reconsidered because there was a baby I had to think of, a baby I needed to rescue and return to her parents, and settled for something more diplomatic than my original reply. "Sorry, uncle," I said, not entirely successful in keeping the venom entirely out of my tone. "We simply didn't want to impose our _abominable_ presence upon you."

Yeah, okay, so I wasn't very good at being diplomatic. It was the sort of thing best left to my better half, truly. Elijah was good at diplomacy; I was more of a kick asses and take names kind of girl.

I wasn't a match for Reginald, though, and I knew it. I couldn't kick his ass, not by myself. Maybe if I had Ezra with me, but alone, in this dingy hospital hallway with no support to fall back on? I stood no chance.

And, again, there was a baby to consider. I wouldn't, _couldn't_ , risk doing any sort of strong attack magic with the baby _right there_. I was a risk-taker by nature, but not with the baby there. I was there to save the baby, not endanger her.

Reginald finally seemed to notice how often my gaze drifted to the whimpering bundle in the other witch's arms. "Ah," he said, "and here is the guest of honor that we have all been waiting so long for." He reached out his arms. "Give me the baby, Grace," he said to the witch.

"Yes, sir," she said obediently, passing the squirming bundle over to him.

"Thank you," he said, flashing her a charming smile. Then he tucked the baby against his chest with one arm and shot a black lightning bolt through Grace's chest with his other hand.

Grace's eyes went wide in shock even as her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise, but that all happened in less than a split second, and the next thing I knew she was toppling over, a smoldering hole in her torso where her heart had previously been. She fell to the ground with a _thwump_ sound, her limbs sprawling out listlessly, like a marionette whose strings have been cut.

"You killed her," I said stupidly, staring at the girl's body, her eyes still wide, but now unfocused and unseeing for the rest of time.

"I did," Reginald answered, his voice still jovial, even as something dark danced in his eyes.

"Why?" I croaked out, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. I wasn't going to mourn Grace's death- hell, I'd been of a mind to kill her myself- but for one of her own supposed allies to just snuff her out of existence so brutally like that...it was horrifying.

"Why not?" Reginald questioned, seeming to be genuinely puzzled at my inquiry. "She was in the way."

In the way. I tried not to puke all over his designer shoes. "Is that why you killed Mama and Papa?" I demanded, my voice cracking as the the grief and rage swamped me. "They were in your way?"

"Yes," he said simply.

Red crept in around the edges of my vision, the sort of red that only showed up when I was approaching a killing rage. I knew it wouldn't be smart to attack my uncle head on, but it was _so_ tempting.

_The baby_ , I reminded myself, willing the red haze to recede so that I could think at least semi-clearly again. _He's holding the baby, you can't attack him. Think of the baby, Zoe, the baby's all that matters right now_.

I clung to that reasoning, my gaze riveted to the wriggling bundle in Reginald's arms. I couldn't risk the baby. I had to stay focused. I _had_ to.

"Why?" I asked him, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

"I already told you why I killed Rina and your mongrel father, dear niece. Let's not be boring and rehash it again."

"Not that," I said, shaking my head. "Why chase us. Me and Ezra. Why, all this time. What do you want?"

He gave another of those slow smiles, like he knew a clever joke and wanted to lord it over everyone else that they didn't know the punchline. "Because of your power," he said. "Because if I tie the two of you to me, my own strength will increase a hundred fold. Even if I just get you," he added, the darkness slithering in his eyes again. "You alone will boost my power more than any demon-ridden Shadow Coven operative ever could."

Well, there was that explained at least. I finally, after all these years, knew what our uncle wanted from us, from me. He wanted to use us as living batteries, like Tunde had done with Rebekah. Like Reginald must have done with Sirena, like we'd thought, drawing energy from both her and the dark spirit that shared her body.

I had only one answer for him.

"Not going to fucking happen," I said flatly.

"Oh, don't be so sure," Reginald replied easily, not looking the least bit put off by my vehement denial. "After you and your little band of abominations killed Sirena and took that energy source from me, I've found that I have become quite desperate to possess you and your power, dear niece. There is nothing," he added, "that I will not do to obtain what I desire."

I opened my mouth to ask what he planned to do, but then he held one hand above the baby's face, angry black electricity arcing between his fingers, close enough to the baby's skin that she cried out at the heat.

"Don't you dare hurt her!" I hollered, fear making my voice crack.

"What will you offer me," Reginald asked, voice silky smooth, "so that I don't?"

Oh. Oh, God.

I could see it now, the way he'd so neatly boxed us in. Boxed _me_ in.

This had been his plan from the start, hadn't it? Use the New Orleans coven, just as he'd used the Shadow Coven. He'd taken what he'd wanted from them, manipulated them into arranging things for his own goals, all while making them think he was on their side.

He'd pitted them against us, gotten them to take Hayley and Klaus's baby, because they'd been told that sacrificing the baby would bring the power back from their psycho ancestors. But he'd been playing them for fools. They had trusted him to kill the baby, do the ritual for them, but he ultimately had no interest in their petty power grab. Had no interest in the baby at all, beyond as a bargaining chip to get what he really wanted.

Me.

I started shaking so badly that it was like I was in one of those vibrating massage chairs they have at strip malls. My legs felt so weak, and my knees were practically knocking together. My hands weren't clenched into fists anymore, they were just hanging at my sides, trembling, as shock and fear coursed through my veins like poison.

I was doomed.

I could see it, very clearly. Nothing in my entire life had ever been so crystal clear as that revelation was in that moment. Reginald had planned it all out perfectly, the rat bastard. He'd arranged the pieces on the board and events had transpired just as he'd desired, bringing him precisely the outcome he wanted and needed.

Hadn't I just been thinking, just moments before, that there wasn't anything I wouldn't do to get that baby home to her parents? Those thoughts now seemed almost painfully ironic.

"What is it going be, darling niece?" Reginald asked, soulless gaze drifting from my face down to the baby's. "Will you buy your freedom at the cost of an infant's life blood?"

No. Never that. Never her. My freedom wasn't worth innocent blood. Certainly wasn't worth the life of a child. Absolutely without a doubt was not worth the life Klaus and Hayley's child.

But God Almighty in Heaven, I was so scared. Terrified, in a way I hadn't been since childhood. I would have given almost anything I had to be far, far away right then. It was too much. Everything I'd done to survive, to thrive, it had all been for nothing. Because it had all led to this end anyway. What had even been the point of running to begin with?

_No_ , I snapped at myself. _Don't think like that. There were good times, too. Plenty of good times._

Unbidden, an image of Elijah popped into my head, of him waking up in our bed, his hair rumpled and his face wearing that adorable smile that make me want to kiss him forever and never stop.

Yeah. There had been good times. I'd have to find a way to cling to those somehow, in the hell I was relegating myself to.

I took a step forward, and strangely, my heartbeat was evening out, becoming steady. Now that I'd made up my mind, the fear was...receding. Not going away, not by a long shot, but it wasn't holding my body hostage anymore, either. Now that I'd chosen my path, my inner storm quieted. I was scared to death, really, but I was committed to my decision.

"Release the baby to her parents," I said, my voice commanding in a way I hadn't expected it to be. "Let her go and I..." My confidence wavered briefly as the horror in my future tried to drown out my good intentions and make me flee, but I ignored it, shoving that fear back down because I had to do this. There was no choice. There never had been. "Let her go and I'll go with you," I finished, exhaling gustily and clenching my jaw so tightly that I was surprised I didn't pop a tendon.

Reginald regarded me for a long moment, and for a few terrifying minutes I worried that he wouldn't go through with it, wouldn't uphold such a bargain. That he'd kill the baby and take me away with him anyway.

It would have been a mistake, if he had chosen to do so. If he harmed that baby I was going to go at him at full strength, no holds barred. If he hurt that baby, I was going to let him have it with both barrels and then some. And I wouldn't stop until one of us was dead on the floor.

He must have seen that resolve in my face, the way I held myself, coiled and ready to attack at the slightest provocation, because finally he nodded. "Very well," he said, those shadows curling his eyes again. "As you wish, niece, so shall it be." He glanced over my shoulder for a moment, and I suddenly heard hurried footsteps coming down the hall from behind me. "Do not say I am wholly unkind, niece," he said, gaze jumping back to me. "I will give you time to say farewell to your fellow abominations before we leave."

"The baby," I demanded, stretching my arms out, not daring to glance behind me for even a second. "Give her to me. Now."

"Do I have your solemn oath upon the Goddess and her Consort that once I hand her over you will submit yourself to me?"

The wolf in me rebelled at the oath he wanted, because submitting to anyone was not in my nature. I was dominant, not be tamed, certainly not by this evil, conniving bastard.

But the baby's safety and well-being was dependent upon this promise, so I swallowed the bile in my throat and did as I was told. "I swear upon the Goddess and her Consort that I will submit myself to your will," I said through gritted teeth, "once the baby is with her family and I am convinced of her safety."

I heard Ezra's furious curse as he finally got within earshot of us, and heard everyone else's exclamations of dismay and disbelief, the words bouncing off the walls and echoing until all I could make out was the general tone of outrage.

"The baby," I said again to my uncle, a growl seeping into my voice.

"Remember your oath," was all he said before handing her to me.

I wasted no time in passing her over to her father; Klaus took her from me, looking down at her with a relieved expression that I'll never forget. It was like he'd had his entire world ripped away from him, only to have it given back through a miracle he hadn't expected.

Then he looked back up, at me, and his expression turned into something awful, full of pain and regret, so full of feeling that I had to look away because I couldn't take the emotion I saw there, in his face.

"Zoe," he began, and then faltered. I wanted to be amused at that, Klaus Mikaelson, notoriously silvertongued, at a loss for words...but the amusement wouldn't come.

"Don't," I said to my alpha instead. "This was the only way. I don't...It was the only way," I said again.

He nodded, eyes full of guilt and gratitude in equal measure, and my own eyes teared up in response, though I blinked the tears away as quickly as I could, because once I started crying I wouldn't be able to stop, and I refused to break down that way with my sadistic fucking uncle standing on and watching it all with the smug smirk of his.

"This isn't over," Klaus promised me in a low voice, quiet enough so that Reginald probably couldn't hear. "He isn't going to get away with this, Zoe. I won't let him take you away from us like this."

"Your daughter needs to be your top priority," I whispered, heart aching. "Don't risk her for me."

Klaus opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but then Rebekah was there, elbowing him aside and throwing her arms around me in a suffocating hug that I very much needed.

"I hate that you're doing this," she said, voice catching on a sob. "I know how much you hate him. How much you fear him. I hate this."

"Join the club," I retorted, my voice sounding pathetic and weak even to my own ears.

Rebekah pulled away, hands gripping my shoulders tightly. "We're going to fix this," She said fiercely, eyes gleaming. "We'll fix it, Zoe."

I nodded, even though I was pretty sure there was nothing to be done to fix anything that was happening. My fate was set now, and all I could do was meet it without flinching. But I nodded anyway, because just as I needed to be strong for them, I needed them to be strong for me, because otherwise I truly would just fall apart. And if they realized how hopeless this situation truly was, they wouldn't be able to be strong any longer, and then I would shatter as well.

So I nodded, gave her another tight hug, and then turned to Davina, who was staring me with wide, horrified eyes.

"You can't go," she said, voice wavering even as she came towards me on unsteady legs. "Zoe, you can't go with him. We need you. _I_ need you." Tears spilled down her cheeks and her lower lips trembled.

I didn't hesitate; I yanked her forward, pulling her to my chest and wrapping my arms around her. "It'll be okay," I said, dropping a light kiss onto her head. "Everything is going to be fine, sweetie."

"You're lying," she sobbed, voice muffled.

I didn't bother answering, just held her tighter. "Are the others okay?" I asked at last, because the only other ones I could see with us were Ezra and Elijah, who I hadn't dared to look at yet. Sophie and Marcel were nowhere to be seen.

"Marcel had to kill Monique," Davin answered in a small voice. "Sophie...she thought she was ready for it, but it hit her pretty hard. He had to take her home."

Ah. Well, I wasn't going to miss or mourn Monique, but my heart hurt for Sophie, who had loved her niece. Had given up everything to try and save her. I found myself thinking more kindly of her than before, because here I suddenly was, in a position where I was giving up absolutely everything, with no way out, no way of going back. And it was horrible. At least I had the consolation of knowing that the baby was going to be safe; Sophie's sacrifice had been entirely in vain.

I released Davina, and she went over to Rebekah, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders immediately. I turned next to my twin, who was staring at me with the most desolate expression Id ever seen on his face.

I didn't know what to say to him. I don't think he knew what to say to me, either. It should have been comforting, to know that we were both equally at a loss for how to deal with this, but it wasn't. I just felt old, and lonely.

"So," I said at last. "Some vacation, huh?" It seemed like an eternity ago that we'd been pulling to New Orleans in a beat-up old truck, my brother listing off all the tasty foods of the Big Easy even as I remained skeptical of his insistence that New Orleans was a good place for us.

Ezra stiffened, then let out a sharp bark of laughter that reverberated from the walls. "Maybe next time we should just go straight to Disneyworld," he suggested, voice forcefully lighthearted.

"Next time," I echoed with wistful smile. There would be no next time. Not for me. I knew it. He knew it, too. Once Reginald had me, that was it. There'd be no getting free. He had pursued us for too long, fought too hard to claim us. Once he had me, he wasn't going to give me up.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said bleakly, sounding more broken than he ever had before, even after Sirena had done her worst to him and left him a battered, bleeding husk.

"I'm not," I said, and was surprised to discover that I actually meant it. "I'm not sorry we came here," I told my brother, words spilling out of my lips because this might be my last chance ot say them. "I don't regret that we stayed, I never have." I blinked back tears again. "These last months have been the best of my entire life," I said fiercely. "I am not sorry for that. I'm not sorry, and I wouldn't change a single minute of it." My gaze drifted over to Elijah, who was looking at me with his heart in his eyes. "Not a single minute," I repeated softly, going over to him, tears now pouring down my cheeks because this, saying goodbye to this man I loved with my heart and soul was...too much. It was literally like saying goodbye to half of my soul; I didn't think I could live without him. I definitely didn't want to.

But there was no choice here. The path I was on didn't have room to turn back.

I opened my mouth to say something to Elijah, but all the came out was a choked sob. So I fell back on our mate-bond, hoping that it would be consistent for once, that it would let me say the words my throat was too clogged to let you. _I love you_ , I projected as strongly as I could. _I love you, and I'm sorry._

He crushed me against his chest in a powerful hug as if he were a drowning man and I was the only thing that could keep him afloat.

_I love you_ , I thought again, wrapping my arms around him and clinging to him desperately. _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love-_

He interrupted my mental rant with a fierce kiss, hot and passionate and heart-breaking. I let myself drown in it for a moment, wanting to savor it, store the sensations and emotions away in my memory for the dark days that I knew were coming my way, then pulled away.

I swallowed hard, looking up at him, trying to memorize the lines of his face, the love in his eyes. "Elijah..."

" _J_ _ _e__ _g elsker deg_ _,"_ he whispered, lifting up one hand to trace the edge of my jaw.

"Люблю тебя всем сердцем, всей душою," I returned, tears now coming so quickly that my vision blurred, the image of Elijah's face lost in the onslaught of my pain at losing him. I love you with all my heart, I'd told him. With all my soul.

I wanted to say more, but then Reginald was there, grabbing me roughly by the elbow and pulling me away, even as Elijah bared his teeth at him in an open threat display. The others were protesting, too, snarling and cursing and throwing insults at Reginald.

He ignored it all, dragging me along with him. "That was more than enough time for your farewells," he said to me, his tone vaguely one of disgust, as if he'd found my goodbyes offensive in some way.

Well, fuck him. I gave him my best death-glare, and then tried to twist away in surprise as we rounded a corner and he snapped an icy cold metal manacle around my left wrist. "What the fuck is this?" I demanded, tugging at it with my other hand.

"Your new leash," he said, and snapped his fingers.

And just like that, everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I totally cried while writing this, and while editing it, and every single time I read over it again. What can I say, this chapter hurt, even knowing that I have a happy ending planned.
> 
> Anyway, in case anyone's wondering what Elijah said, it's "I love you" in Norwegian. But it actually carries more weight than "I love you" does to us English speakers, because in Norwegian culture you don't say that casually, ever. "I love you" is rarely said, even among married couples, because saying it is so powerful and generally it's just assumed that if someone cares about you, they'll already know it. And since they already know it, why bother saying it? So, yes, a declaration of love in Norwegian is a huge deal. There was no way for me to fit in that explanation into the story itself, so I had to relegate this explanation to this ending authors note; you can also google 'romantic phrases in Norwegian' if you're curious to learn more about it; I found it all very interesting, but then I like learning stuff like that. XD In any case, I thought Zoe's response was also appropriate, because she also loves Elijah very, very deeply, and the Russian language definitely allows for more dramatic/romantic statements than a simple "I love you, too'. XD
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter (although perhaps 'enjoy' is the wrong word...). Pretty please drop me a review if you've got a second to spare. This is the third to last chapter, so it'll be one of your last chances to review for Inevitable! ;D


	98. Chapter 98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, welcome back, everyone, and thank you so, SO much for all your feedback on the last chapter! It sounds terrible to say that I'm glad you all cried, but I am, because it means I wasn't off sobbing by myself in the corner. XD As always, thanks to everyone who's reading this story; thank you guys so much for your support! And sorry about the crying! *passes around tissues* 
> 
> Now, a few words about this chapter, including a trigger warning, which is something I rarely do.
> 
> Okay, so...this chapter is pretty dark. Like, actually dark, not just the sort of dark I do when bad stuff happens and I insert humor. This chapter is actually genuinely disturbing because of some things that happen in the latter half, and...yeah. Basically, it's like this: Reginald does a spell that links him to Zoe so that he can use her for power and control her; he commands her to do his bidding and because of the intensity of the linking spell she must obey him. Naturally, he isn't not doing this for good reasons. I don't want to say too much and risk giving away anything important, but let's just say that Reginald uses this binding spell to make Zoe do some very un-Zoe-like things. Very un-Zoe-like things, and I apologize in advance for any emotional discomfort you may experience during this chapter; I know I was extremely uncomfortable while writing it, which I guess is proof that it's effective? I dunno. Anyway, basically this is sort of a trigger warning for...lack of agency, I suppose. In the extreme.

**Chapter 98**

" **Truly evil people don't just hurt others. They take pride in the pain they cause and then try to blame the victims."**

* * *

When I woke up, I felt cold.

Not cold in the traditional sense, though. More like...empty. Distant from myself, somehow. I had trouble pinpointing the source of the sensation at first, but then something pinged against my awareness and I glanced at the manacle around my wrist.

Made out of a shimmering black metal, it had no ornamentation or adornments aside from a square-shaped ruby on the top that seemed to pulse with dark energy as I stared at it, my mind struggling to connect the dots.

I stretched my senses out a bit more, and made a very disturbing discovery. The metal cuff around my wrist had a binding spell on it. And where did the bond go? Why, to fucking Reginald, of course. He had, controlling paranoid bastard that he was, laid a nigh unbreakable binding spell on me while I was unconscious. He had tied me to him, and after mentally poking at the energy of the spell wrapped around me, I realized that there was more to it than a simple energy-sucking spell.

This was a full-on obey-my-every-command-or-suffer-in-agony type of binding spell. Spells like these were forbidden. Hell, _beyond_ forbidden. To even consider using a spell like this, that stripped away or negated free will, was a terrible, horrible crime in the eyes of the magical community. Only the worst sort of shameless scum would stoop to using this kind of dark magic to tether another person to their will.

It did not, in hindsight, surprise me overmuch that my uncle was precisely that sort of shameless scum.

He came into my room (more like my cell; it was a tiny space, with only a tiny cot and a toilet) a few minutes later.

"Hello, dear niece," He said in greeting.

_Fuck you_ , was what I wanted to say. I wanted to shout and scream and lunge forward to claw his eyes out.

But that spell wouldn't let me. My muscles seized up as the thoughts of attacking Reginald crossed my mind, and I realized that he'd somehow managed to pull off the sort of binding spell where the victim can't perform violence against their controller.

So, while what I wanted to do was punch Reginald in the face, what I actually did was just sit there with a disinterested look on my face. "Hello," I said back numbly, glancing down once more at the cuff on my wrist. I couldn't see any seam in the metal, no weakness of any kind, really. Theoretically I could possibly shatter it with my magic, but the second I reached for my magic, I found a strange bock between me and my power.

"Careful now," Reginald warned, wagging one finger. "I've put restrictions on your ability to use magic," he informed me, that smug smirk back on his face, eyes shining triumphantly. "You cannot use magic without my express permission."

_If I ever get free from this_ , I thought, looking once more at the icy metal wristband, _I am going to-_

"Stand up," Reginald ordered, his commanding voice cutting off my thoughts.

My body stood up on its own, without any conscious decision from me to do so. _Oh, great_ , I thought, sarcasm thick in my mental voice to make up for the fact I apparently could no longer express my snark verbally. _He laid an obedience spell on me along with the bonding spell. Fan-fucking-tastic._

"Follow me," Reginald said curtly, pivoting around and leaving the room.

My legs started walking despite my internal objections, and as I started following my uncle I realized something that only fanned the flames of my aggravation even higher.

I was dressed entirely in skin-tight leather. From the corset that was uncomfortably tight to the sleek pants that clung to my legs like a second skin, I was dressed in black leather. Even my hands were encased in black leather gloves.

"I see you've noticed your wardrobe change," Reginald remarked as I caught up to where he was waiting at an elevator. "Don't worry, I had one of the remaining Shadow Coven chits change you out of your old rags before I, ah, disposed of her."

_'Disposed of' here have the meaning of 'murdered'_ , I wanted to snap, but the binding he'd put on me kept me quiet. I also wanted to bitch about the fact he'd apparently seen fit to take away and toss out the perfectly fine Star Wars shirt I'd been wearing prior to my surrender. I'd paid at least twenty bucks or that shirt, and it was disproportionately infuriating that I'd lost it in an already shitty situation.

_Stop being petty, Zoe_ , I told myself sternly. _You have bigger problems on your than than your missing shirt. Look at Reginald. He's smiling. Why is he smiling? Something must be up._

And didn't that just make her stomach lurch. Anything that made her sadistic and disturbed uncle smile couldn't possibly be good news for her.

The elevator arrived and they both stepped inside, Reginald pressing one of the dozen unlabeled buttons that were on the control panel.

"Where are we?" I asked, then blinked in surprise, because, hey, I'd spoken while magically muzzled. Was the binding not as strict as I'd thought?

Reginald turned to look at me, a faint frown drawing his brows down. "We are at an underground compound," he said after a moment of tense silence. "I believe it used to belong to the military, a fallout shelter or some such nonsense; the fools actually forget it was here, can you believe it?" He shook his head, chuckling darkly. "I bought the land, intending to build something of my own on the property, but imagine my delight when I discovered this here." He spread out his arms as we arrived at his chosen floor and exited the elevator...into yet another dull cement hallway littered with heavy metal doors that were painted baby barf green.

"Impressive," I said, and although the spell on me erased the sarcasm from my voice, I think Reginald picked up on it anyway, because he shot me a sharp look and did a twisting motion with his hand that sent a sharp jolt of pain through my body, originating at the manacle and flaring through the rest of me.

The pain was almost enough to make me collapse, but I gritted my teeth and locked my knees, determined not to show one iota of weakness to the monster before me.

"You have more willpower than I anticipated," Reginald remarked, his tone making it clear that it was not a compliment.

I, however, took it as one. Couldn't manage to get my tongue working to say so, or to even give any sort of verbal response at all since the aftershocks of the pain were still thrumming through my body and rendering me largely helpless, but I felt a sort of smug satisfaction at his annoyed assessment all the same.

"Follow me," he said after another moment of heavy silence between us, and led the way down a hallway and into what seemed to be some sort of subterranean parking garage.

I tried to ignore the order, to stay where I was, but the spell forced me to follow him; at one point I managed to slow myself down while walking, but no matter how hard I pushed against those walls and chains in my mind and around my soul, I couldn't make myself stop.

In the end, Reginald had me get in the driver's seat while he rode shotgun, then proceeded to give me very specific directions as to how to drive.

"You will not remove your hands from the steering wheel at any point unless it is to change gears," he told me sternly. "You will drive in only the direction I tell you to go in, and will not attract any undue attention to us or this vehicle in any way. Do you understand me?"

I gave only an aggravated growl in response, my hands clamping down on the steering wheel even as I longed to wrap them around my uncle's throat and squeeze.

"Do you understand me?" he snapped out, his anger flaring bright and hot and sending a jolt of pain into me from the bond. "Answer when I speak to you!"

"I understand you," I gritted out through clenched teeth, my jaw so tight it felt like I might crack a bone somewhere.

"Drive," he said in response, his tone curt as he then told me how far to go, when to turn, and when to stop. "And apologize," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Apologize," I repeated, flatly, hands tightening on the wheel as I obediently pulled out of the garage and started driving south-east. _For what?_ I wanted to demand, but my lips wouldn't form the words, leaving me to continue to stew in my frustration.

"Your disobedience is an insult to me," my uncle said, his tone arrogant and affronted, as if the wrongs of my attitude should be obvious. "So apologize to me, darling niece."

"Fuck off and die," popped out of my mouth before the binding spell could tighten enough to stop the words from tumbling out of my lips, and for a moment both of us just sat in stunned silence in the aftermath of my verbal rebellion, too shocked to speak.

And then my uncle snarled out an angry curse, and made a slashing motion with his hand, and suddenly all I knew was red hot pain and ice cold agony. "Pull over," he ordered once the pain become so intense that my arms and legs were jerking and shuddering and preventing me from driving straight. "Now."

My muscles spasmed as my body moved to obey, and I bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as the Jeep we were in changed direction and headed for the side of the road.

I spotted a massive oak tree just as we rounded a gentle curve in the road, and made a split-second decision that I hoped I wouldn't regret.

_Pull over, huh?_ I thought angrily as I stomped on the gas and aimed us straight for the thick and sturdy tree. _Try this, motherfucker._

Reginald barked out another order as he realized what I was doing, and the pain from ignoring it was so intense that I screamed, my vision going bright at the edges even as my body felt like it was being subjected to some very thorough electroshock therapy.

But my hands on the steering didn't budge, and the next thing I was aware of was crashing into the tree at fifty miles an hour, my uncle snarling obscenities and emergency spells beside me as we barreled into the trunk with a loud crunching noise that seemed to reverberate through my entire body.

Then everything went black, my awareness cutting out even as my uncle said one more incantation.

When I woke up, I was still dressed in black leather, and still, to my immense and immeasurably fury, bound to Reginald.

The crash had not, to my great disappointment, killed either of us. It did feel like I'd cracked a few bones and gained a concussion (which probably wouldn't help my resistance the binding spell in the long run, dammit), and Reginald looked like he'd gotten trampled by a herb of angry bison. But we were still alive.

And the spell binding me had tightened further, so tight that even brushing a mental hand against the walls in my head had me flinching back in pain.

"Do not," my uncle said as he noticed my awakening, " _ever_ do anything like that again. Do you understand?"

"I understand," came out of my mouth automatically, my voice completely wiped of any emotion whatsoever; literally, it was like hearing a robot speaking with a voice that sounded vaguely like mine. It was incredibly disturbing. Or at least, it would have been disturbing, if I'd been capable of feeling much of anything; it seemed like he'd done something to mute my emotions as well, or maybe I was burning myself out with my attempts to rebellion.

Either way, the growing apathy I could feel within myself was alarming. Or, again, would have been alarming if I could muster up some actual emotion on the subject. I needed my feelings, needed that anger and fear and determination to keep myself going, to keep fighting back.

And yet I was finding it hard to dredge up any intense emotion at all. How annoying.

_Not just annoying_ , I told myself almost desperately. _Fucking frustrating. Aggravating as hell. So upsetting that it should make me break out the lightning bolts._

But still, all I did was sit there, saying nothing and doing nothing, just waiting for Reginald to give his next order.

I'd never been so disgusted with myself in my entire life, even though I knew deep down that it wasn't really my fault.

"Stand up," Reginald commanded, giving a triumphant smirk when I did so without hesitation or complaint. "Now, walk east. We have an appointment to keep."

_What appointment_ , I wanted to ask, but no sound came form my mouth. My lips didn't even twitch, and my tongue stayed entirely still.

I found out our destination roughly ten minutes later, when we strode onto some sort of ranch property that was marked _**Private – No Trespassing**_ **.** It turned out to be not a normal ranch, though; I could sense that much as we strolled up the long driveway, odd currents of magic twisting through the air and pinging against my awareness even as I sat trapped in my own mind, an observer to my own actions.

It took me several moments to realize where we were, and even then, if I hadn't seen the silver banners with Hecate's Wheel embossed on them in sapphire blue, I might not have made the connection between all the little things I'd noticed since first awakening under Reginald's control and being forced to accompany him on whatever his current task was.

We were still in southern Louisiana somewhere, I'd known that already, could tell it from the feel of the air and terrain we'd passed on our drive from his underground base; I was pretty sure we were somewhere to the east of Calcasiu Lake, but I couldn't be entirely sure given my current situation. Also, we'd been heading south and east from wherever we'd been, and I figured that depending on where we'd started, we were now somewhere in one of the wildlife refuges that littered the area.

There was, as far as I knew, only one group of people that had a commune hidden within a Louisiana Wildlife Refuge, and that was the Daughters of the Gentle Night. A coven composed entirely of female practitioners who worshiped Hecate, Greek Goddess of Magic and Queen of Night, they were a reclusive group, and well-known for the strength of their members...also for the fact that all the Daughters in the order abstained from using their magic for anything other than what they considered 'the work of the Goddess'; basically, if it wasn't for the cause of venerating Hecate or doing what they considered their goddess's will, they would not use their magic.

Which isn't to say they were obsessive zealots; quite the opposite, from what I'd heard. Mostly, they just believed strongly in their goddess and trusted in the path said goddess supposedly put them on. There was another branch of the Daughters of the Gentle Night, but it was somewhere in France from what I'd heard, making this the only such commune in all of North America.

I found myself immediately worried over what possible reason my uncle would have for us coming to a secluded community of powerful witches who wanted nothing to do with the outside world. Why would he want to come here, to be here? What did he want with these peaceful practitioners who would find Reginald himself to be a disgusting amalgamation of everything they opposed in a magic user?

_Oh_ , I realized a moment later as a sentry near what seemed to be the entrance of the main compound let out a sharp shout of warning at their approach only to be pierced through the chest by a crackling black lightning bolt cast by my uncle, who was now grinning madly. _That's why we're here._

_To kill them._

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest even as my legs kept carrying me forward, trailing after Reginald as he struck down witch after witch as he methodically would his way up the dirt path to the main cluster of buildings. _Stop_ , I cried out inside my mind as I saw another Daughter collapse ot the ground, blood pouring from her eyes and mouth and the gaping hole in her chest. _Stop, please, stop this!_

But no sound came from my lips, and Reginald did not stop. If anything, his assault became more intense, more frenzied, until suddenly bodies were falling left and right and all I could do was stand and stare and scream inside my head for it to stop, stop, stop.

My magic, despite being bound to obey Reginald just as my body was, began to stir and twist at my heightening distress, and after I was forced to stay still and inactive as my beast of an uncle butchered a ten-year old witchling right before my eyes, it was like a fierce wave of power rushed out my body, blasting outwards almost like an explosion of hot air.

Reginald staggered briefly, caught from surprise by behind, then he whirled around, a expression of dark wrath plain on his face.

"Still struggling, I see," he hissed, eyes shining with madness. "Why will you not learn your place?"

Pain came crashing down on me, hard and fast, and I collapsed to the ground so abruptly that my knees slammed into the dirt hard enough to sent sharp biting jolts of pain all the way down to the tips of my toes. "Stop," I gasped, clutching at my head as tears streamed down my cheeks. "Stop."

He made a clenching motion with his hands and suddenly I felt like I was being choked, my throat crushed in an invisible grip as my vision starting going in and out of focus, darkness creeping in around the edges even as starbursts flared in my gaze like fireworks. "Learn your place," he snarled.

"Fuck you," I wheezed, and then fell face-forward to the ground, writhing in agony as somehow he amped up the pain even more, past what I'd thought was possible.

My uncle's voice sounded from above where I sprawled in the dirt. "Still defiant, eh? Well, here...see what your defiance has earned you, niece." He muttered some sort of spell, and then the sound of his steps retreated, like he was moving away.

Meanwhile, a strange icy tingling sensation was washing through my body, flooding me with an incredibly disturbing numbness that I tried and failed to fight against. It washed through every muscle, every nerve ending, until suddenly I felt hollowed out and empty, as if someone had ripped out or boxed away everything that made up my identity. Everything that made me _me_.

"Stand up," Reginald ordered, and I obeyed instantly, springing to my feet easily, as if I hadn't been in debilitating agony just seconds before.

"Will you obey me in all things?" my uncle asked me, face unreadable.

"Yes," a voice that sounded like mine responded. "Of course."

"In all things?" he repeated, gaze narrowing on my face. "Regardless of the consequences?"

"Yes," my mouth said again. "Of course."

An expression of smug satisfaction came across Reginald's face. "Wonderful," he said, his voice full of sickening cheer. "Kill the rest of the witches here, and bring their bodies to me."

_No_ , I said inside my mind, even as my body turned around and began a calm, deliberate stride towards the closest building, where I could hear frightened practitioners hiding, praying that they wouldn't be found. _No, no, no, no, no, no!_

I kicked open the door and wasted no time in firing off several dark lightning bolts, and the darkness inside me purred with satisfaction as the witchlings toppled to the ground, screaming and choking and drowning in their own blood.

_No!_ I screamed, but no one heard me.

_Stop it_ , I pleaded, although to whom I was begging I couldn't have said. _Stop it, stop it, please, stop it!_

_Stop **me**!_

But no one did. A few of the more proactive Daughters did try to attack me, but to no end; I was too powerful, and under Reginald's command I was all but untouchable, wrapped in dark magic and an utter lack of remorse.

The shadows inside me all but swallowed me whole as I was forced to watch, a prisoner in my own body, as I slaughtered my way across a community of non-violent practitioners who had wanted nothing more than to please their goddess and live in peace. By the end of it, what was left of the real me was curled up deep inside my mind, whimpering and pleading and crying.

There was nothing I could do to stop it, so I retreated, so deep within myself that I could almost pretend I couldn't hear the screams.

I let the shadows swallow me up and fill me with emptiness, because I couldn't bear to see the monster I'd become. Part of me tried to maintain some kind of hope, some kind of stability, but it was a lost cause if there ever was one. This was what I'd feared from the start, what I'd always been running from.

Being _this_. A monster, twisted and dark and eaten up by dark magic and even darker feelings. It didn't matter that I hadn't taken this leap willingly, all that mattered was that it had happened. And there was no going back.

_No_ , I thought as I stared down at the corpse of a toddler whose mouth was gaping like a fish as her eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. _There's no going back from this._

I screamed one final time inside my mind, loud and piercing and with enough force to shake the heavens if there was anyone left who cared to listen to me, and then everything splintered apart and I knew no more, almost welcoming the icy blackness that wrapped around my heart and soul and buried me in shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yeah, it was a very dark chapter, for which I apologize. But Zoe's going to get free from Reginald by the end of the story, I promise! She's going to need tons of therapy afterwards, but she isn't going to be stuck with Reginald forever, I swear. Anyway, in the next chapter we'll be getting some of Ezra's POV, so you'll get to see how he's holding up with his twin kidnapped by Reginald. And then Operation: Rescue Zoe gets underway! :D
> 
> Anyway, pretty please drop me a review if you've got a second to spare! I adore feedback, and this was a pretty heavy chapter, so I'd really like to hear what you guys think about it. :)


	99. Chapter 99

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Second to last chapter, can you believe it?! I think I'm still in shock that this story is almost over...it's been quite the journey, don't you think? :) Anyway, I hope you've all been doing well and taking care of yourselves! I (finally) had an office visit with my doctor yesterday, and I left really satisfied; everyone was very kind and understanding and helpful, and I got everything done not just in one day but in one location (my office visit, my x-ray, my blood draw, my prescription pick-up...all at one place! It was great.) Thanks to everyone who messaged me with kind words of support and encouragement; it really meant a lot, because I was panicking pretty hard leading up to the visit, and all the support really helped to keep me calm until I was reassured by how wonderful everyone at the office was. :) Also thanks to everyone who messaged me in general, with writing-related questions and all that; if I haven't answered your message yet, don't worry, I will! I've just been busy with work and stuff, and also I like to take my time answering so that I can give you the best answers possible. ;D
> 
> Moving along...a huge thank you as always to everyone who's reading this story! And super duper bonus thanks to everyone who reviewed last time over on ffnet: Anna Okumura, AndrianaWarrior7, shadowblaster99, Shadowclaw106, Adela, kineret, Fangirling007, and Smilingbringsjoy. Thank you all for your great feedback! :) 
> 
> Okay, so...I had a really hard time with this chapter. I mean, I've had the end of this chapter ready to go for ages, but the first two-thirds of the thing was a struggle for me. Maybe because I already knew how it was going to end? I dunno. XD It comes across as a bit rough, in my honest opinion, which was partially deliberate, because Ezra himself is in a rough place right now, and the first portion of the chapter is from his perspective. But it's also a bit rough because...I suck? No, really, I think that's the reason. I just struggled with this chapter, I guess, I can't really explain it. XD Anyway, there is a bit of a timeskip between the end of Chapter 98 and the start of this chapter; it's just like a week and a half or so, and wouldn't necessarily be important to mention, except Zoe's been with Reginald all this time and things are...not going well. For anyone. Read on for more heartbreak and drama!

 

**Chapter 99**

" **People who are meant to be together find their way back. They may take a few detours, but they're never lost."**

* * *

 

Ezra spent the next week and a half literally an emotional, mental, and physical wreck.

Losing his twin, having her taken from him, had knocked him so far off the rails that he wasn't entirely sure that he'd have remained even remotely sane if the Mikaelsons weren't around.

As it was, they were just as wrecked as he was, but somehow they managed to keep him from losing himself in a self-destructive spiral. Klaus and Rebekah were best at it, because Elijah was just as devastated as Ezra himself, and also not good at hiding it.

They hadn't given up, though, not by far. The first couple days had been spent getting Klaus and Hayley's daughter settled in and secure, complete with vampire and werewolf bodyguards and as many wards and protective sigils as Ezra could manage to put around her nursery before exhaustion and despair had caught up with him and forced him into unconsciousness.

Now, they were starting to make some headway into tracking down where Reginald had taken Zoe. They were still in Louisiana, of that they were certain; Reginald had not been subtle about his recent killing sprees, and it was becomingly increasingly easy to isolate the reports of a warlock using black lightning.

It was even easier to find the reports of a woman matching Zoe's description ruthlessly slaughtering multiple covens at the orders of said warlock, and with every new report or rumor that they found or wrung out of an informant, Ezra felt like throwing up.

Zoe, his Zoe, their Zoe...maiming, murdering, torturing. Everything she hated and despised about dark practitioners, everything she'd fought so hard to not do, to not be...

And now...this.

There were a few times where he did throw up, the reports were so gruesome.

_This can't be happening_ , he thought at one point, as he stared down a slightly blurred photograph of a mutilated body that was supposedly his twin's handiwork following an attack Reginald ordered on a small coven operating out of New Iberia. _This isn't Zoe. It can't be._

_Please, God...don't let this be real._

His twin couldn't be the one doing this. Shouldn't be capable of things like this. Well, that wasn't true. She had always been capable of things like this, this darkness...but she'd fought so hard against it. Had refused, all these years, to succumb to those darker temptations, those darker paths of blood and gore and shadow.

He found himself praying on an hourly basis that his sister wasn't gone entirely; that there was still something left of the girl he'd grown up and traveled with. He prayed that Reginald hadn't destroyed the good in Zoe with his corruptive influence and dark power.

They finally, a few days later, managed to pinpoint their base of operations one afternoon after receiving a report back from the sole surviving member of the Daughters of the Gentle Night, who had escaped the slaughter of her coven-sisters simply because she'd been away from the compound at the time of the attack, off visiting her younger sister, who had just given birth to triplets in Alexandria.

Upon returning to her commune and finding the aftermath of horror that remained in Reginald's wake, the last Daughter had sworn vengeance, and after hearing of the Mikaelsons and their own quest to locate and destroy Reginald, had thrown her lot in with them; she'd been scouring the state for clues about Reginald's whereabouts ever since, and after ten and a half days of grueling work, they finally had a target.

"Here," Rhonda, the Daughter, said, unrolling a map and stabbing a finger at a blank patch of land in the middle of a nature preserve. "This is where they are."

"There's nothing there," Rebekah said, wrinkling her nose even as she wrapped an arm around Ezra's waist to help ground him; he was increasingly likely to flip his shit these days, if Rebekah or Klaus weren't nearby. His wolf was just as erratic and volatile as his human half, both grieving and raging over the horror of what had become of Zoe, and control was dangerously hard to come by lately, which subsequently resulted in a lot of physical contact with the loved ones he still had with him.

"It's underground," Rhonda snapped, cringing only a little when Klaus and Ezra both growled at her tone, Elijah and Rebekah giving her icy glares that would have sent a lesser woman running for the door in gibbering terror.

But Rhonda wasn't one to cower or flee, especially since losing her entire sisterhood. She just lifted her chin a bit and stared them down, not giving an inch. "There's some sort of underground base," she pressed on. "No one comes or goes except for Reginald and the Dark Woman; I don't think there is anyone else."

"Don't call her that," Elijah said, his tone sharp and rough, and Ezra couldn't decide if he agreed with the vampire's objection or not; on one hand, he had a point. The supernatural community had taken to calling Zoe the Dark Woman, most because they didn't know her true identity and only really noticed the fact that she was decked out in all black clothing and used very dark magic during the attacks. The few who did know that it was Zoe had taken to calling her the Dark Woman so as to get some sort of separation between the two, as if by calling Zoe by a different moniker they could erase the fact it was the last Storme daughter underneath the blood and gore.

Rhonda, for her part, just rolled her eyes at Elijah's protest and continued speaking as if he hadn't interrupted. "I believe Reginald is weaker at the moment," she informed them, and Klaus leaned forward almost eagerly as they all took in this new tidbit.

"Weaker?" the hybrid repeated. "How so?"

"The last attack," Rhonda replied, gesturing to whatever coven had been annihilated most recently. "It was more difficult than the ones before. More of a struggle for them, from what my sources tell me. Reginald will be weaker now," she concluded. "Or at least the Dark Woman will be," she amended, acknowledging the fact that Reginald drew his power from Zoe and used her basically as an attack dog.

Silence fell at the table as they all absorbed what the witch had said.

Finally, Ezra broke the silence. "How soon can we be there?" he asked, and was met with a chorus of answers that soothed the desperation inside of him.

In the end, it was decided that Klaus, Ezra, Elijah, and Rebekah would go; Cami wanted to go, as did Hayley and Davina, but Klaus steadfastly refused to let Camille anywhere near Reginald, especially since she was still recovering from her broken ankle; her doctor had hemmed and hawwed and said that she was recovering well but still had four weeks at the very least until she could resume a 'more active lifestyle'...and since a rescue mission involving witchcraft and wolves generally involved a high level of activity, Cami was banned (after strenuous protest) from participating. Davina, similarly, wanted to go along and get back Zoe, who she viewed as a sister figure, but Marcel had stridently vetoed her involvement as well; he _might_ have allowed it, if he could have gone along to watch over her, but Sophie was still in shock and grieving her niece's death and so Marcel couldn't leave the Abbattoir and subsequently wouldn't allow Davina to leave, either.

Hayley, of course, was still recovering from a very violent and traumatizing childbirth, and despite also wanting to go rescue the woman who had kept her newborn baby out of the hands of the enemy, she couldn't deny that her place was with her child.

And so, it was just Ezra and the Mikaelsons, much as it had been at the very start of things. It felt a bit like things coming full circle somehow, or at least it might have felt that way if Ezra was inclined towards thinking that way; at the moment he was too hyper-focused on the idea of getting his twin back to think too deeply about much of anything.

Rhonda led Ezra and the Mikaelsons to where Reginald and Zoe had holed up, and then left, steadfastly refusing to take part in what would undoubtedly be a violent fight between the two opposing sides. "I've done my part," Rhonda informed them when pressed for an explanation. "My information brought you this far; what happens after this is your responsibility, not mine."

Had Ezra been in a slightly less desperate frame of mind or in a mood closer to his normal one, he might have commented on that, on how Rhonda had demanded to be involved only to chicken out when it came to the actual battle.

But he couldn't seem to work up the energy for even a sarcastic remark on the subject, and so just shrugged and turned away, already putting the woman from his mind. He needed to focus everything he had on getting to Zoe and bringing her home; he didn't have time to waste on persuading an unwilling party to tag along. The Mikaelsons seemed to be mostly of the same mind as him on the subject, although Klaus expressed more than a little suspicion as Rhonda's sudden desire to not be involved.

The Original hybrid didn't pursue the issue, though; one look at Elijah and Ezra seemed to remind him that their family's number one priority was recovering Zoe; nothing else mattered.

It didn't take them very long to break into the bunker; Klaus ripped the thick metal door at the entrance off its hinges and Rebekah did something clever with the elevator to make it take them to the level accessed most often, which presumably was the floor where Reginald and Zoe could be found since it was the floor on which they spent the most time. Ezra and Elijah just followed along after them, all senses on high alert for even a tiny hint of the sorceress-wolf they were here for.

Finally, the elevator reached their destination, letting them out into a dim gray hallway that looked like something straight out of Cheyenne Mountain. They started off their exploration slowly, but then Klaus and Ezra caught the unmistakable scent of Zoe and her magic, along with a more unpleasant tang that could only come form Reginald; his scent has twisted and soured, but Ezra would know it anywhere, it was burned into his mind along with all the memories of screaming and blood and death.

Reginald himself looked almost exactly as Ezra remembered from the last time they'd met; just like with Ezra and Zoe themselves, the immortality spell had preserved Reginald's appearance, and dressed as he was in a dark suit and blood-red tie, he simply looked like an arrogant business man to anyone who didn't know better.

Ezra knew better. He knew that the man sitting atop the dais across the room was nothing less than a monster, for all that he had a human skin and played at having feelings. Reginald was a psychopath, no doubt about it. And Ezra would have absolutely no regrets whatsoever about tearing out his uncle's throat if the opportunity presented itself.

"Hello, nephew," Reginald said in greeting as Ezra and the Mikaelsons entered the room. "I see you've brought some friends with you."

Ezra swallowed hard, fighting against the panic swelling within him; his wolf was all but writhing under his skin, clamoring to get out, but Ezra steeled himself, pushed that side of himself away. He couldn't lose control. Not now. Not when he, and the others, had worked so hard to get to this point. To get to Zoe.

_Because we're here for Zoe_ , he reminded himself forcefully. _Fuck Reginald. We're here for my sister._

_Sister_ , his wolf echoed back, whining. _Hurt. Alone. Suffering. Sister._

_I know,_ Ezra sent back, his gaze going to woman in black standing by his uncle, slightly in front of him and down a few steps lower on the dais, in a position that indicated both her subservience to Reginald and the fact that anyone trying to get to Reginald would have to go through _her_.

Her familiar face was completely blank, devoid of any and all emotion. Her eyes were dark and empty, and that spooked Ezra more than he cared to admit, as did the eerie stillness with which she stood in place. If not for the barely-visible rise and fall of her chest that indicated her breathing pattern, she could have been mistaken for a well-preserved cadaver that was somehow upright.

It was so, _so_ wrong.

Zoe was never still, never silent. Her eyes were never so without life, so empty. _She_ was never so empty. She always had something to say, something witty or sarcastic or kooky. And even if she wasn't speaking, there was always a sparkle in her eyes, or a slight curve to her mouth, like she knew something you didn't and couldn't wait to either share the punchline or laugh when you got it wrong.

"Hey, сестренка," he said to his twin, struggling to not let his voice crack with all the volatile emotions ricocheting around in his chest. "You're not looking so good." And it was true; there were shadows under her eyes, and her skin was even paler than usual; it was like staring at a washed-out leather-clad clone of his sister, and it was unnerving as hell.

Doubly so when all Zoe did was blink at him, expression still painfully blank. She stared at him for a moment longer, and for a fraction of a second he thought he saw something in her, a flicker in her eyes, but then it was gone, and she was turning to look at Reginald with a vaguely expectant look.

_Like a brainwashed soldier waiting for orders_ , Ezra thought, utterly sick to his stomach. Still, he wasn't going to give up on his sister. Not now, not ever. "I know you're in there, Zoe," he said, taking a deep breath and fighting not to flinch as the overpowering stench of dark magic invaded his nostrils. "I know it."

"You know nothing," Reginald said, a cruel smirk twisting his lips as he turned to glance at Zoe. "Tell him, Zorana. Tell him where your loyalty lies."

"With you, Uncle, of course," Zoe replied, her voice smooth and cold and just as without feeling as the rest of her.

"And what do you do for me, dear niece?"

"Whatever you ask of me, Uncle," she answered in that same monotone, even as her eyes darkened with some strong emotion, only for the feeling to disappear just as quickly as it had come; if Ezra didn't know better, if he hadn't been watching so very closely, he'd have wondered if he'd imagined it.

But no, he'd seen the flicker of recognition and disgust in her eyes; he'd seen it, and now he was sure: Zoe was still in there. Buried deep, but there. The only question was whether there was enough of her left to fight back. Or had she been tethered to their uncle for too long already, and drowned in the darkness with only shards of her true self remaining?

Well, nothing for him to do but keep trying to reach her. What the hell did he have to lose at this point, really?

"We came here to bring you home, Zoe," he said, lowering his voice to a friendly, coaxing tone. "See? Me, Klaus, Bekah, and Elijah. We're here to bring you back."

Zoe's gaze drifted over each of them in turn, lingering longer on Elijah, but she said nothing, and her face stayed blank.

"You need to come home, Сестра," he tried again, heart pounding.

"We all miss you," Rebekah said suddenly. "Cami's worried sick about you, and you know how she gets. And Davina's about to have a meltdown, she's so desperate for you to come back; she's really grown very attached to you, I think."

Something that might have been regret and longing flashed in Zoe's gaze, then vanished.

"Even Marcellus is unhappy over your absence," Klaus pitched in. "He'd be here himself if he could, as would the others." His eyes flashed wolf-gold as he visibly struggled with his emotions. "We _need_ you to come home, Zoe." His expression softened. "Please."

Desperation flared in Zoe's eyes, and for one wonderful moment Ezra dared to hope that they'd gotten through, that Zoe would find a way to throw off Reginald's control, that they could all just go home and leave this all behind them.

But then Reginald murmured something under his breath and made a sharp motion with his hand, and then suddenly Zoe was stiffening like she'd been stabbed with a cattle-prod, and once again all feeling leaked out of her face and eyes, leaving behind the same empty and broken doll that had been standing there when they'd first come in.

Ezra felt like someone had shoved a jagged icy dagger into his heart, and it was all he could do to swallow down the scream that as threatening to tear its way out of his throat. _Keep calm_ , he told both himself and his wolf, which was once more raging under his skin. _Keep calm, keep calm. It'll be okay, it'll be okay. We'll work it out somehow. We're not going to lose her, it'll be okay._

He forced himself to step forward, closer to where his uncle and his sister stood. "Zoe," he said pleadingly, "come home."

She just looked at him expressionlessly, her eyes dark and unreadable.

"Zorana _is_ home," Reginald said, his silky smooth baritone full to bursting with the arrogant confidence of some who's convinced of victory. "You should join us as well, Ezra," he went on. "Stand with your family."

Ezra remained silent for a long moment, then shook his head slowly and took a step back, closer to the Mikaelsons. "I already _am_ standing with my family," he said hoarsely, before turning to look at his twin again. "They're your family, too, Z. Don't you remember? Or is there really nothing left of the real you in there? Are you really just our uncle's puppet now?"

Something flickered in her gaze, an emotion that was there and gone again so fast he couldn't be sure he'd really seen it. He was starting to wonder if he'd imagined all of it, those glimpses of emotion; had he just been imagining what he was so desperate to see?

_No_ , he told himself. _No, she's still in there. She is. She_ _ **has**_ _to be_.

But still she said nothing, as silent as a statue.

Then Elijah stepped forward so that he was right beside Ezra. "Zoe," was all he said, but Ezra hoped, prayed, that coming from Elijah, it would be enough.

* * *

 

The shadows were wrapped around my heart so tightly that I should have been far beyond things like grief and regret and longing.

Yet somehow, I wasn't.

The words of my friends, my _family_ , stirred something inside me, something fierce and powerful. Something that threatened the hold my uncle and the darkness had on me.

And then Elijah stepped forward.

"Zoe," he said, and nothing more.

No grand speeches, no monologues about how I needed to break free from Reginald and come home. All he said...was my name.

But that was all that needed saying. Because even though he said only my name out-loud, I heard so much _more_ when he opened up his end of our bond and let me feel the full force of his emotions.

Love.

Flowing along the bond was love. His love for me, untainted. No feelings of betrayal or disappointment or judgment. Just love, pure and simple.

And though he said nothing, it was all exactly what I needed to hear. The shadows around my heart tightened briefly, as if trying to insulate me against the warmth pouring through my bond to my mate. But the darkness was no match for Elijah's love; I doubted that anything was. The shadows within me weakened and crumbled, bursting apart like shattered glass as I embraced the love and let it flow through me.

And with the darkness fading, I could more clearly sense the spell that was binding me to my uncle.

And I could see what I would need to do to _break_ it.

It would be risky, might even kill me in the process...but I knew what I had to do.

"Zorana," my uncle was saying now as he surveyed my loved ones before us. "Have you anything else to say to those who came so foolishly to rescue you?"

A snarky answer was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. "I believe," I said carefully instead, "that you are quite right, Uncle. Families should stay together."

"That's my girl," he said, and I could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. He hadn't sensed the difference yet, didn't realize that I was no longer his broken and tamed attack dog.

He'd discover it soon enough.

I could hear his footsteps as he came down the stairs behind me. As soon as he drew even with my position, I made my move, whirling around with my dagger clutched tightly in my hand.

I plunged it into his stomach before he had a chance to put up a shield spell to block the attack.

I couldn't kill him, I knew that; his immortality prevented that.

But it didn't prevent me from _hurting_ him. The binding spell he'd put on me to tie me to him _should_ have stopped me, but it didn't it.

I felt it, though, the reaction in the spell; attacking Reginald with intent to harm violated the bindings the spell had put on me. I could feel the energy crackling and writhing, twisting with a hunger for retribution that pulsed through my body.

"Zorana," my uncle gasped, his eyes going wide in what seemed to be genuine shock. "Why?"

"Because," I said, gritting my teeth against the waves of pain that were washing through my body from the binding spell, "you're not my family."

And the everything exploded.

Well, not everything. Just the energy building between me and my uncle, the furious energy that came from the collapse of the binding spell.

The energy burst apart in a ferocious shock-wave that tore me away form my uncle and sent me hurtling through the air and across the room. I got one final glimpse of my friends and family as I went flying through the air, my gaze lingering on Elijah's face, before I slammed into a far wall with a loud crack and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, this chapter was a monster for me to write. Seriously, it took me ages. And now it's done! And posted! Wow. *breathes in deeply* I'm so proud of myself! XD Anyway, drop me a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter. There's only one more chapter after this, and it's basically just the tying-up-some-loose-ends chapter, and then we'll be all done with Inevitable! (Can you believe it? I still can't believe it. XD).
> 
> Anyway, my current plan is to post the final chapter, Chapter 100, exactly one week from today, on Friday February 3rd. The chapter itself is all done and set to go, but there's something I'm doing in my ending author's note for that chapter that's taking me a little more time than anticipated (in the best way possible, actually, you'll see what I mean when you check it out XD), so there might be a slight delay? I mean, probably not, because I'm eager to post the final chapter for all of you, but still, I figured I'd give a head's up just in case. XD
> 
> Alrighty, that's about all I've got to say for right now. As always, you can find my on tumblr, my main blog is under the name yuzukimist; I have some sideblogs for other stuff also...if you're interested in any of my other stuff (talesofcamellia is the blog dedicated to my Tales of Camellia series of self-published stories (the first two are available for purchase on amazon! For 2.99 each! Woohoo!), and roxannemidnight is the blog that will eventually be dedicated to any and all published works done under my penname Roxanne Midnight [anything written as RM is going to be LGBTQIA romance, just FYI] but for now it's mostly just LGBTQIA support and awareness, since my first novel as RM is still a work in progress.)
> 
> Aaaaand...that's all, folks! See you next time! :)


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the final chapter of Inevitable, my friends! *sniffles* I'm a little emotional right now, so I'll just let you get on with reading the actual chapter (I do have a humongous ending author's note for when you're finished, though! ;D).
> 
> All I've got to say about this chapter in advance is: There are definitely going to be some lingering issues and trauma all the way around for everybody as a result of the thing that have happened during the course of this story...but those are issues to be addressed another day, in another story. Because I promised a happy ending for Inevitable, and that's precisely what you're going to get! :D

**Chapter 100**

" **Maybe it's not about the happy ending. Maybe it's about the story."**

* * *

Returning to the waking world was disjointed, confusing, and _painful_.

I wasn't fully conscious at first, just sort of floating in that mental blackness where you're aware of the fact that you're not all the way awake yet but not able to do anything to finish waking up.

In any case, all I felt to begin with was agonizing pain. Not quite physical, more like a sort of searing pain on a mental level. It came, I was sure, from the bond that Reginald that created between us, the bond that I had literally (or perhaps metaphysically?) exploded.

The magic that had been coursing through that bond had rebounded, lashing out at me when I'd forcefully severed the connection, and that magical overload seemed to have blown out my circuits, so to speak. I could feel my own magic within me still, deep down, but it was weaker than I was used to, much weaker. I knew on a logical level that my power would come back, eventually, but the sudden almost-absence of the power that had always been to close to the surface was a peculiarly painful loss that caused another spike of anxiety and grief in my already overloaded emotional grid.

And all of that wasn't even taking in consideration all the guilt I was wallowing in. Lord Almighty, the things I'd _done_. That I'd been forced to do all of it by my sadistic uncle didn't matter, not really, because it had still been _me_ doing it. My mouth uttering incantations for the foulest of black magic spells, my legs walking over the corpses of the ones I'd killed.

My hands covered in the blood of innocents.

I wanted so badly for all of it to have been nothing more than a terrible, awful nightmare...but I knew from the sick feeling of disgust and the icy horror washing trhough me that it had all been real, _too_ real. I couldn't recall everything that had happened, at least not clearly; some memories of my time spent with my uncle were hazy, out of focus, but I remembered enough. _More_ than enough.

Deep within myself, I shuddered and wept, and wondered if I should even bother trying to truly wake up. What was even the point? There was never going to be any way to atone for all the damage I'd done...Hell, would anyone even miss me if I never woke up? I'd caused them so much trouble already...surely it would be better just to remove myself from the equation altogether and spare them the troubled of my continued existence?

Zorana, don't you dare, Elijah said suddenly, his voice echoing all around me in the darkness. Don't you dare leave us now, not when we've finally found you and brought you home.

I wept some more, but then suddenly the darkness surrounding me wasn't so dark anymore, but instead was filled with warmth and acceptance...and love.

_Elijah_ , I thought, my heart twisting in my chest. _I'm scared._

_Don't be_ , was his immediate response. _Don't be scared,_ _kjæresten min._

_But Elijah-_

_No, mitt hjerte. You mustn't be frightened now. There's no need for you to be._ A slight pause, then, _You're not alone, Zorana. We're all waiting for you to come back to us. Can't you feel it?_

_Feel what_ , I started to ask, then lapsed into silence because I could feel it. Or rather, feel _them_.

My friends.

No, not just friends...my _family_.

Ezra, I could sense him plain as day, the bond between us flaring bright blue and strong like we'd never been apart. And I could feel the pack bond tying me to Klaus as well; the connection was tinged gold, and was just as strong as my bond to Ezra, this tie that connected me to my Alpha. Elijah, of course, was there, the tie between us to close and powerful that it was almost indistinguishable from my own energy.

I expected the connections to stop there, but they didn't. I could sense... _everyone_.

Rebekah was there, the bond between us bright and warm and sparkling, and the same with Davina, her concern and anxiety dimming the connection but not muting out the strong wave of affection and loyalty coming from her. Camille was there as well, tethered primarily to Klaus but also connected to me, the bond between us surprisingly strong, stronger than I would have anticipated had I been asked. I could sense a bond from myself to Hayley as well, full of fierce gratitude and admiration, and there was even a faint sense of Jackson, presumably through his own bond to Hayley. Even Marcel and Sophie were there, albeit in a more distant fashion.

They were all there. I could feel them. I had connections to them. No, not just connections, but bonds. Pack bonds.

My family was here. With me. _Waiting_ for me.

I took a moment to brace myself, and then willed myself awake, forcing myself up through the lingering darkness to the waking world that awaited me.

I bolted upright with a loud gasp, and immediately regretted it, my tired and battered body vehemently protesting the sudden movement. It was only then that I recalled the massive shock-wave that had erupted between me and Reginald when I'd attacked him and broken the bond, the wave of retaliatory magic that had literally blasted me across the room.

My body hadn't forgotten it, though; my back was stiff and sore and it felt an awful lot like I'd bruised and cracked quite a few bones...aw, hell, who was I kidding, I'd probably gone and broken my ribs _again_ ; it was practically to be expected by now. My head also felt absolutely terrible, like I had a whole band of percussionists beating on snare drums between my temples.

But once I was able to move past the physical pain, I was hit with the overwhelming sense of _freedom_. The bond tying me to Reginald was totally and completely gone, and I was my own person again. I was free.

Opening my eyes, the first thing I noticed was that I was back in my bedroom at the Abattoir. The second thing I noticed was that Elijah was perched on the edge of my bed, watching me with an expression of intense concern.

"Hey, there," I said, my voice hoarse. "Long time no see."

He swallowed hard, then gave a shaky smile and reached out a trembling hand to cup my cheek in his palm. "My Zorana," he breathed, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Welcome back."

"Wasn't sure I _should_ come back," I whispered, reaching my hand up to twine our fingers together. "But there was this odd little group of persuasive psychos that convinced me it was worth a shot."

"Well," Klaus said from where he sat with Ezra on the other side of my bed, "her attitude's intact. I think it's safe to say that she'll make a full recovery."

I stuck my tongue out at him, not caring that it made me look like a five year-old when I did it. Then I sobered. "Seriously, though," I said, glancing over at my twin, who was just staring at me with the most grateful and amazed look I'd ever seen on him. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

"You don't need to thank us for that," my twin told me at once, his voice rough but affectionate as he reached out and claimed my free hand, squeezing tightly as if to reassure himself that I was really there and he wasn't dreaming.

"As if we'd leave you with that sadistic wanker of an uncle," Rebekah pitched in, flashing me a tired but warm smile.

"Yeah," Hayley added, looking ridiculously slim for a woman who'd just given birth...how long ago? I belatedly realized that I had no solid idea for how long I'd been with Reginald or how long I'd been unconscious. I could piece together the memories, but had no frame of reference for time. "The only reason we didn't come rescue you sooner was because we had trouble tracking down your uncle's base of operations."

"He was good at covering his tracks," I agreed, then scowled. " _Our_ tracks."

"Don't do that," Ezra said at once. "Don't lump yourself in with him; he made you do those things, Zoe, it wasn't you.

I hummed noncommittally, and then just waved a hand to interrupt the immediate arguments erupting from my assorted pack members declaring that I was not to blame for my actions. "Let's just...not get into it now, okay?" I said weakly. "I...I need time. Just...give me some time, okay?"

They all lapsed into silence, and finally I got reluctant nods from half of them, and long deep sighs from the other half.

"Anyway," I said, aiming for a more easy-going tone of voice, "fill me in on what I've missed? Is Reginald...?" _Dead_ , I wanted to ask, but the word wouldn't come.

Ezra knew what I wasn't saying, though, ans answered my unfinished question. "Unfortunately, no," he said, mouth turning down into a scowl. "But he was pretty severely injured in the backlash blast that went off when you broke that link, and it felt like his magic was weakened, too."

"We considered going after him," Klaus went on, picking up where Ezra left off, "but we were more concerned with bringing you home. Last we heard," he added, "he fled the state. Marcellus had a few vampires tracking him, but they lost his trail somewhere in northern Arkansas."

"So, he's basically vanished without a trace, but I shouldn't worry about it because he's badly wounded and too weak to come bother us again anytime soon?" I summarized, forcing myself to breathe in and out nice and steady.

Elijah gave a wry half-smile, love thrumming along the bond between us. "Something like that, yes," he agreed.

"Hm," I replied. "Well...okay, then. What else did I miss?"

"All the other witches who sided with Monique are dead," Davina told me, giving a shaky smile. "Sophie says that she and I can start up a coven of our own now, if we want to, but..." Her smile wavered and something like grief flickered in her eyes. "I don't think either of us is ready for that yet. We'll see how it plays out, I guess."

"Sophie would be here to welcome you back to the land of the living," Cami said with a tired smile, "but she's busy making funeral preparations for Monique's burial. Marcel's with her now," she added, rubbing the back of her neck as if trying to rub away the stress, "but she's still paradoxically upset with him for having to kill Monique, so he's pretty much in the supportive but silent role at the moment."

"Yikes," was all I could think to say in response to that, because, really, what else could I say? Marcel and Sophie were clearly more than a little in love with each other. But there was so much bad history between them already, and to add a murdered Monique to the already volatile mix? I hoped that they'd work it out, because they both deserved to be happy, but it would be rough going, to say the least.

"Jackson and Kieran have really stepped up, too," Hayley said next. "They've been going all over the city, to make sure everyone we're allied with is doing okay. So far we've been able to keep the other factions from freaking out and causing unnecessary trouble, so that's one less thing for us to worry about right now."

"Less to worry about is always good," I agreed. Then I peered a little more closely at Hayley. "How are you doing?" I asked her. "And how's the baby?"

"I"m good. Well, great, really," she added, giving the slightly goofy smile that mothers the world over get when thinking about their babies. "I mean, the birth itself was utter hell, but the payoff is definitely worth it." She turned to Klaus. "Why don't you...?"

"Good idea," Klaus said with a nod, hopping up out of his seat. "I'll go get her right now."

"Get her?" I echoed back blankly. "Wait, you mean _get the baby_?"

"Of course," Klaus said, as if it should have been obvious. "Be right back," he added, and then zoomed off with that damnable vampire speed before I could object.

He returned a few seconds later, a cooing baby bundled up in a fluffy blanket and cradled in his arms. "Here she is," he said in a soft voice as he brought her closer. "The newest Mikaelson."

"She's so beautiful," I said in a whisper, reaching out tentatively to take one of her teeny tiny hands in my own.

"She is," Klaus agreed, every inch the proud father. "Here, why don't you hold her?"

Awe turned to alarm and I shied away. "No way," I said in protest. "What if I drop her or something?"

Klaus looked at me like I was being a total idiot. "You're not going to drop her," he said, as if the very thought of such a thing happening was utterly ludicrous.

"But she's so small and fragile!" I argued, still not accepting the squirming bundle that was my Alpha's daughter. "I could hurt her by accident!"

"You traded your life for hers," Rebekah pointed out, as if I didn't remember that crucial decision. "I doubt there's anyone she's safer with, aside form her parents. And Auntie Beks, of course," she added, leaning over and cooing at her niece with a wide smile.

But still, I wasn't sure. "I don't know," I said uncertainly. I was pretty sure that someone who'd done the things I'd done didn't deserve to hold someone as precious as Klaus's baby girl; even if I hadn't been responsible for my actions, surely I still carried that taint within me.

"Zorana Storme," Klaus said, and as far back as I could remember, it was the first time he'd ever called me me by my full first name. "Stop being an imbecile and hold your goddaughter."

That shocked me out of my bubble of anxiety, all my worries rushing away like storm clouds pushed away by a strong, fresh wind.. "My what now?" I squawked.

"Your goddaughter," Hayley said, repeating Klaus's words with a satisfied smile.

"I'd like to _properly_ introduce you to the newest addition to our family," Klaus said, holding the swaddled baby out to me again. "Hope Zoe Mikaelson."

I took her this time, swallowing hard as I looked back down at her perfect and adorable little face. With bright blue eyes and the cutest little nose in the world, she was undoubtedly the most precious baby in the entire universe, full-stop. "Hi, little Hope," I said softly, straightening the collar of her footsie pajamas almost absentmindedly. "It's nice to meet you when we're not fighting for our lives."

Hope made a cheerful gurgling sound, and drooled all over my hand.

It was somehow the most endearing thing in the world despite the fact that I was now covered in baby slime.

"I want a baby," I decided, then flushed bright red up to my hairline when I realized that I'd said that outloud.

Elijah, bless him, did not react in the usual alarmed fashion that men tended to demonstrate when their significant others were suddenly seized by baby fever. All he did was give a wistful smile and then lean over to kiss me on the cheek. "As do I," he admitted in a low voice. "But my status as one of the living undead might make having a child of our own impossible."

"Pshaw," I said, cradling Hope against my chest and fluttering my free hand dismissively. "If anyone can pull off the impossible, it's us. Just look how far we've come since we met."

"You're right," he smiled, his eyes going slightly distant as if recalling that afternoon in the French Quarter all those months ago. "As long as we're together, I can't imagine that any challenge is truly insurmountable."

I grinned back at him, my heart swelling with too many emotions to name.

_You seem to be in something of a rush_ , he'd said to me that day.

_Hello, handsome_ , was what I'd thought as I'd looked at him, with his dark eyes, dark hair, and sexy suit.

_Who are you?_ he'd asked me.

_I'm Zoe_ , I'd replied, and when he hadn't accepted such a simple response as a satisfactory answer, I'd gotten a bit snippy. _I told you already, my name's Zoe. My brother and I are visiting New Orleans for a little bit._ I'd then decided that New Orleans was a bit too much of a hot zone, and that Ezra and I should leave.

I'd intended to be on the road and out of town by sundown.

And yet, somehow, my brother and I had never actually left. Not once since coming to the Big Easy. We hadn't ever really even considered it as an option after meeting the Mikaelsons. And now?

Now you couldn't drag us away with silver chains and wolfsbane; there was absolutely nothing now that could make us want to leave. After so many years and so many tragedies and heartbreaks, we had finally found a place where we could live in peace. A place where we had people we loved and who loved us. People we would die to protect and who wouldn't hesitate to do the same for us. We had found not just friends who would stand by us in times of need, but a family that would stand with us for the rest of eternity, come hell or high water.

We had found a place where we had everything we had ever craved, everything we'd dreamed of and fantasized about for so long. Trust, and safety, and love.

After so long, we'd finally reached what we'd been running towards the entire time.

We were _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my friends. That's it. That's the end. Of Inevitable, at least. Definitely not the end of the story for the Klaus-Storme family in general; I still very much have more planned for all of them. I'll be continuing to post screenshots for Inevitable on my tumblr and ao3, and I'm going to get started on the EzBekah and Zolijah wedding ficlets soon (I ended up having to drop my business management class, so I suddenly have more free time on my hands than I thought I would!). Once those two mini-fics are done, I'll be moving on to the full-length sequel, Legacies, and then eventually the spin-off about Sirena. So don't worry, there will be plenty more to come for the Stormes and Mikaelsons! Just make sure to follow or favorite me/my username, so that you get a notification when I start posting the new stuff for all the Inevitable series, otherwise you might forget about me. ;D In the meantime, I'm going to be focusing on Echoes of Remembrance, a Teen Wolf fic that I started pretty recently and intend to update every other week or so depending on my work schedule. So if you find yourself missing my writing, feel free to check it out. ;D
> 
> Anyway, before I say my final 'see you next time' for Inevitable, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who have read and followed this story all this time; your support really does mean the world to me, and I cannot put into words how grateful I am for all of you taking the time to give my story a chance.
> 
> So, thank you, each and every single one of you! Everyone out there who has read this story, as well as everyone out there will read it in the future! Your wonderful support is what made this entire thing, all ONE HUNDRED CHAPTERS (over 300,000 words!), possible. So thank you, truly.
> 
> Alright... *takes deep breath* SEE YOU NEXT TIME, EVERYONE! LOVE YOU!


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